Escape Tactics
by Bryler
Summary: Gladio teaches Noct the hard way that kidnapping is always a potential threat when you're a public figure with royal blood. An uncomfortable thought for his three friends, an even more uncomfortable experience for Noct...Chapter 16!
1. Chapter 1

Noctis sighed, rounding the black marble-laden corner that opened up to the final hallway separating him from the training room. He was in no hurry to get there since he was particularly not looking forward to training that day. He hadn't slept all that well the previous night (he never did when his sleep was riddled with dreams—which it seemed to be more often than not lately), he was stressing about exams the following week, and Prompto was coming to the palace later that day to study, and he was wishing he could just fast forward time until then. He could use some Prompto liveliness right about now. It would get his mind off things and lighten his mood. The palace could always use some Prompto liveliness, actually, he thought, taking in the usual dullness surrounding him.

He closed the remaining gap between himself and his dreaded destination and stepped foot into the bright openness of the training room. Ready to greet Gladiolus with an unenthusiastic, "Hey," he glanced around the empty room. _That's weird_ , he thought. _He's never late to training_. The bigger man usually had a sweat worked up before Noctis even arrived.

"Gladi—?" His questioning call was cut short when a hand came out of nowhere from behind, grasping him tightly and sealing off his gasp of surprise.

The action had barely registered with him when he suddenly found himself flat on the ground, pinned by a heavy weight, and his arms pulled roughly behind him. By the time he realized it might be a good idea to start struggling, his wrists were already tightly secured by what felt like thick rope, followed by his ankles. He could hardly believe the speed of his attacker. What the hell was going on?!

He was about to ask the question out loud when he heard the harsh tear of duct tape and immediately felt his breath sealed away once again. The tape was wrapped over his mouth and around his head a couple times, and the intrusion of it made him suddenly fume. He attempted to turn and get a look at the attacker who would soon be either gravely injured or dead for daring to lay his hands on the prince in such a way, when a thick cloth was forced over his eyes and knotted behind his head. He was pressed onto his back as much as his bound arms would allow, and he lay there breathing sharply through his nose, a dangerous anger boiling beneath his exterior.

"Well," he heard a familiar voice say from above him, clearly admiring his handiwork. "That was scarily easy, Noct."

 _What the hell?! Gladio?!_ Noct attempted to say but only a series of angry muffled sounds escaped him. Hearing his friend's voice took the edge off the adrenaline that was coursing through him, but he was still flooded with angry confusion.

"I mean, I am four times your size and all, but at least put up a fight!" Gladio admonished.

Noctis flushed, and tried to keep any angry retorts contained. He didn't want to give Gladio the satisfaction of hearing his muffled protests. It was embarrassing. And he still didn't understand what the hell was going on. Why did Gladio attack him like that, and why the hell was he laying on the floor tied up and blindfolded? It was a little infuriating, to say the least. Especially being taken by surprise as he was. How was he supposed to counter an ambush like that?

"Noct, it could happen just like that, anytime, anywhere," Gladio said, from off to his left now.

 _What could?_

"Being taken by surprise, whether attacked or kidnapped, is something you always have to be prepared against."

 _In the citadel though?_ Noctis thought doubtfully, his pride still throbbing at what he considered a very unfair exercise.

"Today's training is going to deal with escape tactics. Your attacker just got the drop on you, you're tied up, thrown into the trunk of a car—what do you do?"

Noctis squirmed against the ropes a little, rolling his eyes behind the blindfold. Was this really necessary?

Reading his trainee's subtle defiance, Gladio countered, "Yes, this is very necessary. I have to know if you're ever in a situation like this, and I'm not there to protect you," Noct could tell he hated even imagining that, let alone saying it, "I have to know you'll be able to deal with the situation on your own."

Noctis exhaled slowly out of his nose, willing the rest of his anger to seep away. But the ropes were biting, and he couldn't speak, and he was just so annoyed by the situation! He was not up to playing Gladio's stupid game at the moment. Especially when he was put in this position without giving his consent. He hated being tied up. He could only recall it a couple other times when he was little and playing Glaives with a few of the palace officials' children, but it made him feel claustrophobic and not in control, and it was horribly uncomfortable.

He lay still, breathing slowly for a minute or two, willing himself to not give Gladio the satisfaction of seeing him get worked up. _Maybe I can just play it cool for now. Like I'm not even affected. Maybe I could even...Yeah, you know what? I think I could go to sleep like this_. The corner of his mouth would have twitched into a small smirk, had it not been blocked by the tape. He could nap anytime, anywhere, and if it just so happened to spite his trainer, well, that was just a bonus. Besides, how could he not take advantage of napping over the usual physical exertion of training when the option was offered so freely to him?

Gladio kept watching the youth for the next couple of minutes as his shifting against the ropes slowly ceased and his breathing settled into a steady pattern, his chest rising and falling softly.

"Unbelievable," Gladio seethed, shaking his head and turning for the opposite end of the gym. _Fine, he wants to wait until he's ready to take this seriously? Then that's exactly what we'll do_. He dropped to the floor and started counting out push-ups. _It's not like he's going anywhere_ , he thought smugly.

An hour or so passed, and Gladio had been through his usual routine twice now. He was beginning to wonder if the prince was ever going to wake up. Maybe the tape wasn't such a good idea...he thought, making his way over to the prince for the twentieth time to check on his breathing. Everything checked out fine. Back to the waiting game. It was always a waiting game with Noct, he sighed.

It was another twenty minutes or so later ( _God, that kid can sleep though_ , Gladio marveled) when the door unceremoniously opened and a familiar blond head peeked in.

"Noct?" His questioning voice filled the room with the promise of excitement and adventure and mischief and mayhem, and Gladio didn't understand how someone could be as full of life as Prompto was. He could be intoxicating to be around. Or he could give you a huge headache, it depended on the day. And how much trouble he and Noct ended up in.

"...the hell is this?" A frantic voice cut through the comforting darkness that enveloped Noctis. "Noct?!"

"Relax, Blondie, it's just part of training." That was Gladio. Noctis stirred, attempting to sit up. Hadn't he opened his eyes already? Why was it still dark, was it night time? And why wasn't his body responding to him? His mind swirled with confusion until the fuzzy hold of sleep let go, and the memories started trickling in.

 _Prompto?_ he asked, still trying to sit up, and was surprised when his voice didn't work properly either. Oh. Right. Duct tape. Gladio's infuriating training session. Was he seriously still tied up on the floor? Gladio hadn't released him yet?! What the hell? _Would someone please take this infernal blind fold off me?_!

"He's coming to! Why was he unconscious?" Prompto's voice was full of concern.

Gladio snorted. "Unconscious? Try napping."

"Huh?"

"He's mad at me for making him do an escape tactics drill," Gladio explained. "So, he tried to get out of it by his usual shtick—napping at the drop of a hat."

Noct didn't like how easily Gladio always saw through him. And even more, he didn't like how the two of them were talking about him like he wasn't there.

 _Prompt-oh-oh-oh_! he attempted to wail. _Get me out of this_! All that escaped him was another streak of exasperated nonsense.

"What's with the duct tape?" Prompto had crouched down beside him.

"Mostly because I know how incessant his whining would be and I didn't feel like dealing with it," Gladio laughed, causing Noct to flush red again and writhe angrily against his bonds. "Don't be mad, Noct," he went on, apologetically, "it's only to mimic what real life circumstances you'd most likely be dealing with. Should anyone be stupid enough to attempt a kidnapping."

"I dunno, Gladio, seems a little cruel to me," Noct could hear the pity in Prompto's voice. He clearly didn't like seeing his best friend in this kind of predicament. Especially when it filled his mind with "What ifs." They wouldn't know how to handle it if something like this did happen to Noct, and they didn't like even thinking about it, either.

"Did you find him, Prompto?" Noct heard his bespectacled advisor's voice at the doorway and immediately turned his head in his direction, his hopes lifting. Ignis wouldn't stand to see him like this. He'd get him out of this embarrassment for sure.

"Ah, escape tactics," he went on, once he caught sight of the situation. "I do recall you mentioning this earlier," he said to Gladio. Noctis heard him enter the room.

 _Ignis! Finally_! His stifled exclamations continued to go unheeded.

"How long has he been like this?" Ignis asked, getting nearer.

"I dunno, over an hour," Gladius explained. "He's still refusing to participate."

"Is he?" Ignis asked, unsurprised. Noct could tell he was directly next to him now. He was still miffed at how they were talking about him. He was right there, he could hear every word they were saying. He just couldn't reply which was beyond maddening now. He knew the torment was all part of the exercise though. Gladio was trying to incite a certain type of desperation in him, and try as he might, Noct couldn't help letting him succeed.

He felt Ignis' gentle but firm grip roll him to his stomach. That same touch found his bound wrists.

 _Ah, thank you, Ignis! I knew you wouldn't put up with this nonsense_ , Noctis thought, waiting for Ignis to untie him.

Satisfied with something, Ignis released his wrists and addressed Gladio once more, "If he isn't out within half an hour, consider cutting the exercise short," he advised. " But, his circulation appears adequate for the time being."

... _What?_

"I'd rather not linger for the remainder," he went on, "It's quite distressing seeing him like that."

Again, like he wasn't even there. He heard Ignis crossing the room back towards the door and frantically tried to get his attention, squirming as much as the ropes would allow.

"Disregard all of that, Noct," he heard Gladio explain through his struggling. "Your captors won't give a shit about your circulation."

 _You can't leave me like this, Ignis! You never put up with this type of misconduct from Gladio! Where are you going?!_

Noctis' hopes rose once more when he heard the click of Ignis' dress shoes across the floor suddenly pause. No doubt due to his passionate outburst through the gag.

"Oh, and duct tape in his hair...?" Ignis tsked, and Noct could just picture the disappointed shake of his head he was no doubt aiming at Gladio. His footsteps retreated down the hall.

"I _knew_ Iggy was going to kill you for that!" Prompto laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, I was in a hurry," Gladio countered, unconcernedly. "You should have seen how fast I had him down though. It was, not even kidding, probably about ten seconds flat. Boom."

Noctis groaned loudly, demanding they stop talking about him like he couldn't hear them!

Gladio couldn't help snickering ever so slightly. It was always so easy to get a rise out of the prince. And it never ceased to amuse him.

Noctis could tell Gladio was really finding this all to be one big crack up, and he had had enough. He wrenched furiously at his bonds, not even caring how pathetic he might look.

"Who'd even want to kidnap Noct anyway?" Prompto asked, seated next to his friend, watching him struggle while his thoughts were elsewhere. Noct could tell he didn't want to sound as worried as he actually was about the question.

"Could be anyone, really," Gladio answered, missing the point that the blond youth was seeking a comforting response, not an honest one. "An opportunistic criminal, where Noct happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Could be Tenebrae suddenly deciding they want some leverage in negotiations between us and the empire. Could be the empire seeking to control the Crystal through him." It was apparent Gladio had given the subject a lot of thought. It was, after all, his job to have given it a lot of thought.

"How would they do that?" Prompto asked tentatively.

"I dunno, wear him down through torture, maybe." Gladio responded bluntly, and Noctis didn't need to be able to see to know Prompto's face had just blanched white. "...Or even more effectively, torture his friends."

Noctis went stiff, his struggles immediately halted by Gladio's words. Both his friends noticed the sudden fear that overcame him. How could that possibility have never even entered his mind before...? He breath hitched in his throat and he suddenly felt a little nauseous.

"I think you're scaring the shit out of him," Prompto said slightly accusingly. "You're scaring me, too," he added.

"Good," Gladio was unapologetic. "It's my job to think like even the most ruthless enemy." He didn't say anymore on the matter, and instead, dropped it altogether. "Now come on, Noct. You're tied up, thrown in the trunk of a vehicle, you're all alone because your friends are being tortured, what do you do?!"

Noctis flinched at that scenario being mentioned again. He was aware that Gladio knew exactly how to tinker with and tweak his emotions; but even knowing that Gladio could play him right into his hands every time, he couldn't help getting fired up still. Perhaps that was why Gladio was so good at his job. No, that was absolutely why Gladio was so good at his job.

Noctis struggled anew. His friends would never, ever be hurt on his behalf, and the thought of it alone was enough to make him go ballistic. The ropes were cutting like mad now, and he might have even felt a warm wetness dripping down his right wrist. Blood? He wasn't surprised.

Gladio saw it, too. _Shit, Ignis is going to kill me_ , he thought. "Your enthusiasm's great and everything, Noct, but you're never getting out of those ropes by simply trying to slip out. I know how to tie them." He was hoping Noct would calm down enough to prevent causing further damage to his wrists. "I was thinking more along the lines of your other abilities?" he hinted.

Noctis stopped struggling. _Oh. Right. Phasing. God, I'm an idiot_.

It wasn't as simple as he thought it might be, however. Dodging an attack was one thing—it almost came naturally now, but attempting to move his physical form and leave something currently attached to him behind—that was something else. It took a lot of concentration. He also had never given much thought to the fact he needed momentum to warp. Which he couldn't quite conjure up, bound as he was. He tried rocking slightly and then rolling to the right as much as he could, initiating a warp in the process. But he only ended up phasing about half a foot away and the ropes and everything went with him.

He sighed, frustrated. It took too much concentration, and he couldn't quite differentiate between the ropes binding him and the clothing he was wearing, and he was too terrified of accidentally phasing out of his clothes and turning a situation which he didn't think could possibly become more humiliating, into a story he would never live down.

Gladio noticed his frustration. "The phasing's not a bad idea, Noct," he said, encouragingly, pleased the prince was making a legitimate effort. "But imagine you were in the trunk of a moving vehicle, it might not be the safest option. I was thinking more along the lines of your _other_ abilities," he hinted again.

 _Oh. Right. Weapons. Man, I am on a roll today_ , Noct thought sarcastically.

He summoned a dagger, feeling quite stupid for not having done that an hour ago. And while it was awkward and uncomfortable, and he couldn't see, he felt like he was able to position it well enough against the ropes binding him. He began working away at them. He could feel Gladio right next to him, watching closely and ready to interfere if it looked like he was about to pierce himself.

It took forever and Noct not only lost his grip on the knife at least a half dozen times, but he also nicked himself at least as many times as well, despite Gladio hoping to prevent it.

"Careful, Noct," Gladio scolded, after Noctis just punctured himself in the arm again pretty good.

Noctis scoffed at him through the tape. _You try doing this blind-folded with zero mobility! It's not easy!_

"You're almost there, Noct!" Prompto piped in, watching excitedly.

Noctis almost laughed at how Prompto could find anything exciting. Yet, here he'd been for the last half-hour, encouraging and truly caring about his friend getting through the lamest of all the training exercises he'd ever had to do. Although he was embarrassed Prompto had seen him like this, he was also glad for his company.

"Come on! You're really almost through it, Noct!" Prompto cheered, leaning in close, watching intently.

This time Noctis did let out a strangled laugh at Prompto's intensity and fumbled with the knife again. Letting a string of muffled accusatory sounds escape him, he had to re-summon the knife once more.

"Sorry, sorry," Prompto said, backing off a little ways as he realized he was giving Noct some slight stage fright. "Just keep doing your thing!"

Noctis kept sawing away for another few minutes and _finally_ felt the most satisfying snap of rope breaking. He would have shouted in triumph, had his mouth not been obstructed.

Prompto and Gladio both gave a shout for him though, and clapped him on the back. He untangled his wrists, and the freedom felt incredible! He hardly even noticed the painful cramping of his arms as he pushed himself up to a seated position, he was so elated.

He threw off the blindfold and blinked at the searing light that assaulted his vision. Ah, it felt good to see! There was Prompto smiling proudly at him, and Gladio at his feet, freeing his ankles. He could see how pleased Gladio was as well and it filled him with gratification.

"Nice work, Noct," Gladio said, satisfied.

"Yeah, way to go, buddy!" Prompto was still slapping his back, bouncing around him while Noctis turned his attention to the tape still sealing off his voice.

It proved a difficult task getting it off, since Gladio had wrapped it all the way around his head. He couldn't find an ending to start unwrapping it, and he had no idea how he'd get it off his hair.

He was still struggling to find the end of the tape when Prompto knocked his hands away, unable to watch his futile attempts any longer. "Here," he offered, pushing his hands away again and searching for the tape's end himself. Noct was grateful as Prompto located the torn edge and began prying at it. He unwrapped it as much as he could but most of it was indeed snagged in Noct's hair quite thoroughly.

 _Hurry!_ Noct pleaded, as there was still another layer of tape over his mouth.

"I'm trying, but this is really going to be a mess," Prompto said regretfully.

Desperate to breathe normally and finally be able to _speak_ again, Noct clawed at the tape over his mouth until he was able to stretch it far enough that he could at least pull it down to his chin.

He took his first unobstructed breath in hours and exhaled in relief. "Ahhhhh, _finally_ ," he exclaimed, so relieved to have the use of his voice again.

Prompto was still fiddling with his hair. "Yeah, this is a _mess_ , Noct."

"Yeah, sorry about the hair, Highness," Gladio said, not sounding all that sorry, really.

"Sorry about _just_ the hair?" Noctis asked, incredulous.

Gladio laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "And sorry about getting the drop on you and leaving you tied up on the floor and everything," he actually did sound apologetic this time. "It's all for your own good though, you know."

"Right," Noct agreed sarcastically, not being able to keep a slight hint of amusement from his voice. The anger had mostly faded a while ago.

A particular painful tug to his hair brought his attention back to his blond friend. "Ugh, Prompto, careful!"

"Sorry!" Prompto winced.

"Here," Noct said, getting impatient. He summoned the dagger he had used on the rope and was about to pass it back to Prompto to make way with his handiwork, when a gloved hand quickly grasped his wrist firmly.

"I think not," Ignis' stern voice cut in. Noctis hadn't even noticed him enter the room.

"Haha, nice try," Gladio laughed, but cut it short when Ignis eyed him disdainfully, knowing the hair/duct tape fiasco was his fault.

"You are not seriously about to let Prompto take a sharp object to your hair, Highness," Ignis asked, grabbing the knife away.

"Hey," Prompto replied indignantly. "I might be a gun guy but I still know my way around with a good knife." The guys humored him by keeping their dubious looks to themselves.

Noct laughed. "What I _should_ have done," he said, "was summoned you a gun earlier so you could blow my brains out during that shitty training exercise." Prompto snorted, while Ignis frowned, assessing the hair situation. "Would that have counted as a pass, Gladio?"

"Oh right, you've got about two hours of pent up whining to let loose," Gladio said, smirking.

"Yeah, let's see what you think of this 'whining,'" Noct said, summoning a sword and readying to launch an attack on Gladio. He could really use a good sparring match after all that.

"Ah uh," Ignis exclaimed, quickly grabbing his arm, restraining him. "As much as I'm certiain Gladio deserves a decent walloping for the day's events, particularly for the state he's left your hair in," a note of ire present in his voice, "I must insist we adjourn to your quarters for now so I can address the situation properly." The prince's appearance was always a fairly high priority for his advisor.

"You're lucky, Gladio," Noctis said over his shoulder as Ignis dragged him towards the door, Prompto trailing close behind.

Gladio laughed, "You may have just saved my life. Thanks, Iggy."

"Won't be so lucky tomorrow!" Noct called from the doorway.

"I'm shaking!" Gladio called back.

"I'm serious!" Noctis yelled, a faint hint of laughter tinging his voice as it echoed down the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

Noctis couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He couldn't see. He knew nothing at the moment but an all encompassing darkness that consumed his senses. He hated it. It brought a desperation that he couldn't validate, and a fear he couldn't label.

Hadn't he been in this position just recently? He had. The familiarity was too distinct. No mobility. Sealed voice. Sensory deprivation. It had been a test. Gladiolus had tested him. On what exactly he couldn't recall at the moment. But why was he back in that same confounded state he hoped to never experience again?

Confusion and despondency swirled through his mind, a black fog, thick and impenetrable, that grasped at him, beckoning him to sink further and deeper into its uncharted depths.

He tried calling out to Gladio. He should be there, only an arm's length away. Or Ignis, the more sheltering of the two. Or Prompto, the most comforting one; he could chase away darkness quicker than anyone he knew. _Please, someone answer me_ , he pleaded. But his voice was even more useless than it had been locked away behind Gladio's tape. Not a sound escaped him. He struggled against the immaterial bonds holding him fast, but his body was unresponsive.

His fear escalating by the moment, he retreated deeper into the oblivion.

Suddenly through the nothingness he vaguely became aware of a faint voice off in the distance. Quiet and indistinct at first, it grew closer and clearer as Noctis froze to listen, knowing it had to be someone he'd recognize—one of his friends come to help him, to draw him out of the unending dark.

As the voice grew from hushed to discernible, however, his gut knotted in dread. It was Prompto. He knew that immediately. But something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Never before had he heard such anguish behind a voice, least of all his best friend's, and it only continued to grow louder as it seemingly came closer.

"No..."

"No!"

"NO...!"

 _Prompto! What's wrong?!_ Noct pleaded, panic setting in quickly.

"NOOO! No-oh-oh-oh..." The anguish died down briefly to a pained whimper, and Noctis struggled fiercely at the nothingness that held him bound. Prompto was hurt, Prompto was in trouble, Prompto was—

"NO! OH, GOD, NO!" The blond's voice burst forth anew, the desperation of it ripping at Noctis full-force.

 _Prompto!_

"Noct, please," Prompto whimpered, so close now, Noctis swore he could reach out and touch him, if only he could move.

 _Please. Oh God, please, let me help him..._ Help him from what, Noctis didn't know. And it didn't matter. All he knew was his best friend was being tortured and likely dying. Dying right in front of him. And he needed to get to him, he _had_ to get to him, but he couldn't, and it was killing him.

"Noct, please...help me..." Prompto begged, the pain behind his voice searing.

"Noct! Oh, God, _please!_ "

"NOCT!"

The agonizing voice was suddenly cut off by a deathly silence so sharp it stung. Noctis didn't even dare to breathe.

 _Prompto...?_ He whispered in his mind. No answer.

 _Prompto?!_ Nothing.

 _PROMPTO...?!_

* * *

Noctis shot up with a gasp, drawn harshly from his slumber by his own hollering voice. Heart pounding, chest heaving, his hair damp with sweat, he sat there stunned, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

He was in bed. It had been a dream. Only a goddamned dream.

He threw himself back against his pillow, heels of his palms digging into his eyes, demanding all traces of the terrible dream leave him.

Argh, it had felt so real though. The darkness, the horrible feeling of being bound once again, Prompto's tormented voice...

A prickle of fear crept across the back of his neck and he suddenly stopped rubbing his eyes.

It _had_ only been a dream, right?

The desperate pleading of Prompto's pained voice still rang in his ears. Ugh, it had been the worst sound he'd ever heard in his life. It had felt so real.

Darting up once more, he lunged for his phone on the night stand next to him.

The time read 5:27 a.m. He paused, trying to decide if Prompto would be upset being woken so early on a Sunday. Then realizing he didn't care either way, he punched the call button. He just needed to hear solid evidence that his friend was okay. He needed to hear Prompto's usual carefree, happy-go-lucky voice, even if it was a little sleep-laden from being woken.

He listened impatiently to the ringing, knowing his best friend was a light sleeper and should be answering at any moment. _Come on Prompto, pick up!_

He heard the click of the voicemail answering and immediately hung up in annoyance. He hit the call button again and waited.

More ringing. The click of voicemail. Prompto's voice promising a return call. Noctis hung up again.

 _Come_ on _, Prompto!_ Since when had it ever taken three calls to wake him up, he wondered anxiously, punching the call button yet again.

No answer.

Noct tossed the phone aside, hanging his head between his knees and gripping his hair tightly with both hands.

 _Where could he be?!_

He sat there, feeling a panic begin to rise in his chest. He felt his breathing escalate and forced himself to maintain his composure.

It was completely unfounded to flip out. There was no reason to. Maybe his phone was on silent, and he simply couldn't hear Noctis' calls? But no, when did Prompto ever remember to put his phone on silent? How many times had he gotten in trouble in class when a notification from King's Knight set his phone off? Maybe he was simply in the bathroom? Yeah, that was probably it. Or maybe he'd woken up thirsty and was grabbing a glass of water. Yeah, that could be it, too. He would probably be back in bed any minute now, and might even notice he'd missed some calls from Noct.

Noctis tried to wait patiently, forcing himself to continue breathing as normally as possible.

 _"...or even more effectively, torture his friends..."_

Despite trying to keep it at bay, Gladio's voice (and no doubt the cause of his unpleasant nightmare) entered his mind, echoing over and over again, fraying his already frazzled nerves.

He clutched tightly at his hair, swearing at himself. How had he never even thought of that? How had the possibility of his friends being used against him never even crossed his mind?

It scared him more than anything ever had.

Gladio and Ignis—he wasn't too worried about them. Both trained professionally in the combat arts, they practically lived at the citadel full time. It didn't get more secure than that.

But Prompto. Prompto may be a dead-eye with a gun, but he'd had zero training in hand-to-hand combat, and he was always off on his own in the city, hardly even having parents to watch over him. And it was common knowledge he was the prince's best friend. How many times had they been photographed together?

Noctis seethed at the invasiveness of the paparazzi. Whose business was it with whom he chose to spend his time? Certainly not every single citizen's of Lucis, right? But ask anyone who Noctis' best friend was and they'd respond with "Oh, that skinny blond kid, right?"

It made him angry, the celebrity of his position. It was so pointless and stupid.

And it had made Prompto an easy target.

What if the empire ever did seek to control the crystal through him, Noctis wondered, replaying the horrendous sounds of Prompto's tortured voice in his mind once more. He felt a wave of queasiness and sank further between his knees, ducking his face in his hands.

He rubbed at his eyes once more, thoroughly disturbed, and resolved to stop scaring himself and do something—make sure Prompto was okay!

He grasped for his phone once more and made the call. _If he doesn't answer..._

Ring after ring and finally the voicemail picked up again. Noctis angrily flung his phone back on the night stand.

"Ah, screw it."

He threw off the sheet and jumped out of bed, pausing briefly only to throw on sweatpants and a tee shirt, and made his way out to the balcony adjoining his bedroom.

Not even bothering to shut door behind him, he ran to the edge and leapt...

* * *

It was after six o'clock when Noctis reached Prompto's bedroom window. Exhausted from all the warping and dangling (and occasional walking—why hadn't he bothered to put on shoes, again?) he'd had to do to get there, he didn't stop to glance inside before abruptly sliding it open. Although he did pause momentarily to shake his head at the risk of keeping the window cracked. He made a mental note to get after Prompto for that later.

He tumbled inside Prompto's bedroom, hoping his clumsily loud entrance would result in a gasp of surprise from his blond friend, who would surely be startled but pleased to see him.

Scrambling to his hands and knees after hearing no such gasp, he quickly gazed across the room and felt his heart sink when he found Prompto's bed empty.

"Dammit..." he whispered, pushing himself to his feet. Where was he? The empty bed had given his anxious nerves another jolt of uneasiness, disallowing his pulse to lessen any after the workout it took to get there.

"Prompto?" He asked, searching around the room as he made his way to the bed. It was not a large room, and unless Prompto had crammed himself into the closet for some unfathomable reason, he wasn't there.

Skewed pillow, sheet half pulled off the mattress—the bed was a mess in such a way that it was impossible to tell if a physical struggle had taken place or if Prompto was just being his usual self. He could be rather spirited in his movements. And Noctis could see that didn't exclude getting out of bed or attempting to put his clothes away.

He noticed Prompto's phone plugged in on the night stand. He tapped it. Four missed calls from Noctavius, it read.

Noct couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. "Noctavius?" he said aloud, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. Where had that come from, he wondered. Prompto was always changing his friends' names in his phone to whatever struck his mood at the moment. _Ah_ , Noctis suddenly realized, _the eighth knight on King's Knight—Octavius. Haha, that dork._

The brief lighthearted moment was abruptly halted when Noct realized how much he wanted to call Prompto a dork to his face.

 _Where is he?_

He crept out to the hallway, careful not to make a sound, although he was ninety percent sure Prompto had mentioned his parents were gone on business that weekend. And even if he couldn't recall that for certain, it was probably a ninety percent chance they were gone on any given weekend anyway. Noctis had never met them. And he hated passing judgment on people he'd never met before, but he couldn't help giving them a mediocre score at best when it came to parenting. Don't get him wrong, Prompto had turned out great, but Noct was quite certain that was despite his parents. And he could tell Prompto had a lot of...regrets about it, he supposed.

 _But, honestly, who am I to talk about parental issues,_ Noct thought, a little more bitterly than he meant to.

He made his way down the stairs, pausing to glance at a family picture on the wall. It was older—Prompto was young and chubby, his rosy cheeks glowing happily. "Hmm, wonder where the blond hair came from," Noct muttered, glancing between Prompto's dark haired parents.

He was almost to the bottom of the stairs when he heard the front door burst open, causing him to jump. He had barely glanced in its direction when a flurry of activity suddenly filled the room.

"Ba da da, ba da da, bada bada bada!" It was Prompto, bouncing along to the music in the earbuds he was wearing. Brimming with energy, he crossed the floor in three strides and flung open the fridge. Grabbing the first thing he saw, he promptly popped the lid and proceeded to chug its contents.

Noctis stepped off the stairs and into full view of the blond whirlwind. He stared. He had been _out running?_ At five o'clock on a _Sunday?_

Prompto brought the bottle down and was about to wipe his face when he spotted Noctis. He choked, nearly jumping out of his skin.

"Noct?!" he asked, sputtering.

"Uh...hey," Noct said, looking away, suddenly feeling sheepish. Maybe his rushing to Prompto's house out of the blue was a slight overreaction, he realized.

"What the—," Prompto stammered, looking him up and down, taking in his bare feet and pajamas. "W-what are you doing here?" he asked, confused. Then immediately he jumped to concerned, not surprising Noct at all. Prompto had always been innately caring. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Is everything at the palace okay?" He stepped towards Noct, studying him closely.

Noct looked away, embarrassed. He scratched the back of his head. "Oh, uh, yeah, everything's fine," he explained, realizing how strange the situation must seem to his friend. "It's just, uh, it's just you didn't...you didn't answer your phone," he finished lamely, feeling stupider by the second.

"I didn't answer my phone..." Prompto repeated slowly, trying to decipher Noct's explanation. He was still scrutinizing Noct closely and Noct could feel his face starting to flush. He felt like such an idiot.

"Yeah," Noct went on, scratching the back of his neck again and refusing to meet Prompto's eyes. "I tried calling you a few times, and...I guess...I guess I was worried." He crossed the room and pulled out a bar stool at the counter, unable to stand Prompto's scrutinizing gaze any longer.

Prompto's eyes narrowed as they followed Noct across the room. It was clear there was something more going on, but he wasn't about to press him. "So, you're okay," he reaffirmed. Noct nodded. "And no one's hurt or in trouble?" Again Noct nodded. "Well, sweet, then let's make some pancakes or something!"

Noct grinned, almost laughing a little. Prompto was so good at that. Anytime anyone felt like a complete ass, he was so good at deflecting the situation and sparing them further embarrassment. He was also grateful Prompto hadn't pushed the interrogation further. Noctis wasn't sure if he wanted to mention the dream or not.

"You? Make pancakes?" Noct said doubtfully, his brow lifting as his embarrassment dissipated.

"It's just one of those 'add water' mixes," Prompto explained. "Even I can't mess those up." He immediately set about bustling around the kitchen.

Noctis watched him, thoroughly entertained. God, he was glad everything was fine. And he was glad he had overreacted by showing up there. Any break from the palace he got that wasn't school related was always so welcomed. He should try this sneaking out thing more often. He turned his attention back to Prompto, who of course was in the middle of a riveting story.

"So, I'm running from this dog," Prompto went on, animatedly, "and as it gets closer—because it was pretty fast—I mean, I'm fast and everything, but this dog was _fast_. So, it gets closer, like right on my heels, and I almost shit my pants—"

Noctis snorted, spewing most of his orange juice across the counter.

"—because I don't know what it wants. Was it trying to kill me or was it wanting to say hi—? So, it gets closer, and I risk a look behind my back," he said, "like this, you know, and it's _right_ there, and I get a good look at its face, and I almost trip over my own goddamn feet because it looked _exactly_ like—exactly like—"

"Who, the dog ?" Noct asked, needing some clarification while trying to keep up.

"Yeah, yeah, the dog," Prompto went on, "It looked like...Man, I can't remember her name. But she's that council woman, that real shrewd chick on your dad's council, you know, with the squashed face."

Noctis snorted again. "Councilwoman Agnus?"

"Yes!" Prompto said, snapping his fingers, "That's the one! So Councilwoman Agnus is chasing me down the sidewalk in her goddamned dog form, trying to kill me—oh damn," Prompto immediately broke off, noticing the pancakes were burning.

Noctis was in stitches. He had to grasp the counter to keep from toppling off the barstool. "Her dog form?" Noct repeated, hardly able to get the words out for laughing.

Prompto barely managed to salvage the pancakes he was tending to, and flipped a couple of them onto Noct's plate, pleased to see Noct as amused as he was. It was a very rare feat getting that kind of laughter out of the prince.

Prompto took a bite of his pancakes, as Noctis tried to settle down. "You know what these need?"

"What?" Noct asked, grasping his side, trying to catch his breath.

"They need an awesome topping," Prompto said. "My mom used to make this amazing maple glaze stuff when I was little. It's way better than syrup. I bet it's not hard. I should see if there's a recipe online or something." He turned to go grab his phone upstairs but suddenly stopped, eyeing Noctis as if noticing something for the first time.

"Nice haircut, by the way," Prompto teased, reaching out to give Noct's hair a quick tousle before he could block him. Still weak from laughter, Noct tried to swat his hand away but missed—Prompto was already bounding up the stairs, a trail of laughter following close behind. "Should have let me do it!" he called from the stairway.

Noctis fingered his hair ruefully for a moment. They hadn't had to cut off too much due to the duct tape debacle from the day before, but enough that his hair was noticeably shorter. Gladiolus and his damned training exercises...Ah well, it would grow back.

"Uh oh," he heard Prompto say from the top of the stairs.

"What?" Noctis asked, as Prompto made his way back down, staring at his phone.

"Four missed calls from Ignis, two missed calls from Gladio," Prompto said holding the screen up towards Noct, and Noct's stomach dropped.

"Oh, _crap_ ," Noctis exclaimed, clapping his hand to his forehead. "I forgot Ignis was going to wake me early today to get going on studying since I have some meetings to attend this afternoon."

"So, I take it no one knows where you are," Prompto asked.

"No," Noctis said, reluctantly climbing out of his seat, "I left my phone home."

"Damn," Prompto said, "You might be in some fairly deep shit here."

Noctis ran a hand through his hair, quickly trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation. "Yeah," he agreed warily.

"Just for the sake of having a heads up, is some of this heat coming my way?" Prompto asked.

"Huh?" Noctis asked, distracted. "No, no," he quickly responded, after making sense of Prompto's question. "You didn't have anything to do with me sneaking out." _Apart from being the subject of my nightmare_.

Prompto sucked his breath in through his teeth, "You snuck out, huh?"

"Well, yeah," Noct said, thinking it was fairly obvious.

Prompto's phone rang again. It was Ignis.

"Don't answer it!" Noctis immediately said, making a grab for the phone. Prompto dodged him.

"Don't answer?" Prompto asked, incredulous. "They're probably freaking out right about now!"

"I'm fine, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but they don't know that!"

"Just wait until I've at least left," Noctis said, "Please."

"Why don't you just let them send an escort to pick you up?" Prompto asked.

"Because that's exactly what they'll end up doing, and that's what I'm trying to avoid. The whole palace will end up knowing about it, and the council will know, and my father—"

"Alright, I won't call them back yet," Prompto said, much to his friend's relief. "You're sure you can make it back okay, though? That's a long ways for warping."

"I'll be fine." Noctis turned for the door, but stopped abruptly, and turned back. "Thanks, Prompto," he said, reaching out to quickly give his friend's shoulder a brief grasp.

He turned to leave once more but Prompto caught him by he arm. "Noct," he said, suddenly serious.

Noctis turned to look at him.

"You okay?"

Noctis held his gaze briefly, and the dream suddenly came back to him, causing him wince ever so slightly and he struggled to keep his eyes steady with his friend. The same friend whom he couldn't bear to have anything happen to. He nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Prompto released him, doubt evident in his eyes. "Okay..." he said hesitantly. "Be careful getting home."

"I will." Noct nodded his thanks once more and headed out the door. "Oh, and lock your door and close your window, dummy!" he called before shutting the door behind him.

 _Oh damn_ , he suddenly thought regretfully as he initiated his first warp towards the citadel. _I never found out what happened with the councilwoman dog..._


	3. Chapter 3

Out of breath and sweating, Noctis dropped onto the sprawling balcony that served as his own personal lookout over the city of Insomnia. He had never been less interested in the view than he was at that moment, however. Cautious as his heaving body would allow, he softly turned the handle of the balcony door, hoping against hope his bedroom would be empty when he stepped inside.

And whereupon being directly met with his chief advisor and burly body guard, he realized he'd been a fool to think there was even the slightest chance that they wouldn't be there waiting for him. He stopped tip-toeing, suddenly realizing he was only incriminating himself further.

He noticed their stances relax ever so slightly as relief flooded them at the sight of him. And while Ignis' countenance seemed content sticking with relief, Gladio's immediately flipped to anger faster than Noct could blink.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" Gladio demanded, the nervous pacing he'd been carrying out for the last half hour finally drawing to a halt.

Noctis opened his mouth, his hand immediately drawn to the imaginary itch at the back of his head which always seemed to pester him most when he was nervous. And seeing the mood Gladio was in, boy, was he nervous. "Uhh," was all he managed to stammer.

Gladio took a step closer, arms unfolding. "Where the hell have you been, Noct?"

Noct unconsciously stepped back.

"We heard from Prompto a few minutes ago," Ignis said, stepping forward as well, hoping to defuse Gladio's intensity a fraction.

"Yeah, I—I was at Prompto's," Noct admitted, his fight or flight response inadvertently in full effect. He forced himself to maintain his ground as Gladio stepped forward once more.

"And what the hell were you doing at Prompto's in the middle of the night?" Gladio challenged.

Noct didn't immediately have an answer for that. He faltered for a moment, refusing to meet their gazes.

"Prompto seemed to be under the impression you had had a particularly unpleasant nightmare?" Ignis prodded.

Noct immediately looked up, his brow knit in surprise. He had? That was unexpectedly insightful for Prompto. Maybe Noct didn't give him enough credit. Behind the extroverted, devil-may-care persona, there must be some serious observational skills Noct had taken for granted.

"Is that true? A nightmare?" Gladio scoffed, still staring him down. Noct could tell it was taking every ounce of restraint for the big man not to throttle him on the spot.

"Yeah...sort of...I guess," Noct was still struggling with how to answer, the stress of the interrogation already getting to him. He really didn't want to get into the details of anything at the moment. And he wasn't in the mood for a full blown verbal beat down, which he knew was right around the corner with Gladio as apt to blow as he was. He only hoped Gladio kept it verbal. Things might get messy if it ventured into a physical confrontation. He knew Gladio wouldn't hurt him, but he wasn't exactly sure where Gladio's boundaries lay now, after the previous day's training exercise had seen him tied up on the floor for two hours.

"What kind of _dream_ sends someone crying to their friend's house half the city away in the middle of the night?" Gladio was incredulous.

Ignis was studying him closely, and when Noct didn't have an immediate reply, he answered for him, "Undoubtedly the kind that leads one to wonder if said friend may be in trouble?" He was well aware of how intense Noctis' nightmares could be. He'd seen him amidst the throes of one more than once. It was never a pleasant experience, and in fact filled Ignis with a considerable amount of worry.

"Prompto seemed to think it may have had something to do with yesterday's training...?" Ignis coaxed, while Gladio shifted his weight, glancing away briefly—either brushing the notion off as ridiculous, or trying to hide the fact he actually felt bad about it. Maybe both.

Noct still couldn't look at them. His ears burned with embarrassment. Prompto and Ignis had had a fairly in-depth conversation about him behind his back, and he couldn't stand when they did that. So bogus. Score one more for Prompto though—how had he picked up on how much Gladio's words had bothered him the day before?

"Noct," Ignis went on. "We've had this discussion about nightmares before. If they're continuing to increase in severity—to the point where you're struggling with differentiating between dreams and reality—there are people you can talk to..."

Noctis looked up. "Who, the resident palace shrink? Yeah, I'll pass on that, thanks though," he said sarcastically.

Unable to think of what else to do or say, Noct hoped he could maybe get away with at least postponing the remainder of the awkward discussion by making an abrupt and unassuming escape.

He tried heading towards the bathroom across the way, fumbling with his shirt as he attempted to pull it over his head.

No such luck. He'd barely made it two steps, before Gladio had his arm in a death grip.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I need to shower," Noct replied as casually as he could muster, despite his pounding heart.

"You're not going anywhere," Gladio said, grasping Noct's upper arms tightly and practically picking him up as he all but threw him on the bed. "Now, sit down."

Noct complied, righting himself on the edge of the mattress. He knew ignoring his bodyguard's order when he was in such a mood would not be the wisest thing to do.

Gladio paced in a circle, running a weary hand down his face, giving himself a moment to check his temper. Ignis stood silently by, on edge, although anyone who didn't know him would be hard pressed to tell. The only real giveaway was the hard set of his jaw.

Noctis knew Ignis was never one to play the role of bad cop. And he couldn't really blame Gladio for embracing the role whole-heartedly that morning. It was quite clear he had unwittingly given them both a scare. And he couldn't help feeling more than a little remorseful for it.

Gladio took a deep breath, his temper mostly under control once more. "We can't do our jobs if you don't let us, Noct," he began, "Our whole lives," he said, vaguely gesturing to Ignis, "revolve around serving and protecting you. It's not something we take lightly." He paused briefly, thinking about what he wanted to say, "And if we're ever denied the right to perform our duties, we take it as a personal offense." He paused again, his temper suddenly flaring up a bit, "And rushing off on your own in the middle of the night, no escort, no word to anyone, nothing—what were you _thinking?!_ " The grievances he had been struggling to keep in were finally breaking free.

Noct stared at the ground, biting the inside of his lip.

"And _warping_ miles away, no less, God knows what could have happened to you!"

Noct felt his blood getting more heated by the second. He knew he had been stupid. He didn't need it thrown in his face.

"And Ignis comes in to find your bed empty, phone on the table, balcony door blowing in the breeze—What conclusion is he supposed to draw from that?"

Noct hadn't realized just how worrisome that must have appeared.

"The least you could have done was leave him a goddamn note or something."

The guilt stinging, Noct replied, "I didn't think..."

"Of course you didn't," Gladio interrupted. "It never even crosses your mind, the shit you put others through sometimes."

"Gladio..." Ignis admonished.

"The shit _I_ put _others_ through?" Noctis said indignantly, finally finding his voice. "What about the shit I have to put up with?!" His voice escalated. "I didn't ask for any of this, Gladio," he said, referring to the entirety of the role of Prince that had been forced on him since birth. "And I didn't hire either of you to 'put up with this shit' anyway, so why don't you take it up with my father and leave me the hell alone!"

"Oh, believe me, we will," Gladio retorted, shoving Noctis back down on the bed as he made another futile attempt at escape. "And you can kiss your hopes of moving out for the spring semester goodbye."

"Gladio, please," Ignis interfered, clearly displeased with the direction their discussion had taken.

"It's a laugh you ever even suggested it anyway."

"Why?" Noctis demanded. "Why shouldn't I be allowed the most basic request for a 'normal teen' experience?"

"Because you're not a normal teen, you're a prince, dammit! And a goddamned spoiled child of a prince, if ever there was one."

Noct glared at him, his breath heaving.

"And could you imagine the security measures we'd have to take?" Gladio suddenly asked, glancing at Ignis briefly before bringing his shrewd gaze back to Noctis. "It would be a nothing short of a complete nightmare!"

Noct just continued to scowl.

"You have no idea, do you," Gladio stated, "all that goes on behind the scenes in your behalf. All the _people_ that are involved in keeping you safe."

Noct was listening. Glaring daggers, but listening.

"All those times you're 'out on your own' in the city with Prompto? Yeah, there's a trace on your phone and a tail on your ass—usually me—no further than half a block away. Oh, and security can override any establishment's surveillance, should it ever need to, if your safety's ever in question."

Noct's breath seemed to be lodged in his throat. He looked at Gladio sideways, pausing a moment before stating, "You're full of shit." He dared Gladio to tell him otherwise.

"When are you going to understand the full gravity of your position, Noct?! You're eighteen now, for God's sake! Grow up!"

Noctis felt like the room was spinning ever so slightly around him. His ears had taken on a faint ringing to them as well.

"The future of this entire city and all its citizens depends on you—on your life, and the necessity that you grow up safe and sound and accept your goddamn role as the keeper of the crystal and maintain the goddamn wall!"

Noct just sat there, reeling. He was beginning to understand the gravity of his position, all right. The gravity of just how trapped he truly was. His breath continued in short, sporadic spurts, and his chest started to ache from the irregularity of it.

He whispered something to himself.

"What was that?" Gladio asked brusquely, leaning towards him.

"I said, 'What if I refuse?'" Noct repeated, bringing a defiant gaze up and locking equally livid eyes with Gladio.

They sat there, engaged in a battle of evenly matched fiery wills, both of them daring the other to be the first to look away.

"...You don't have a choice, Noct," Gladio finally said, his voice softening significantly, almost to the point of having a faint note of pity to it. "You've never had a choice."

Noct held his gaze firmly for a moment or two longer, the aching in his chest and slight stinging behind his eyes only growing stronger. Finally he nodded.

"We'll see about that."

And with those words he instantly broke off their battle of stares, and faster than he thought himself capable, darted for the balcony once more.

He knew Gladio would be on him before he even made it two steps, however. And he was prepared. As Gladio lunged for him, arms reaching, Noct initiated the simplest of phases, vanishing under his protector's very grasp and reappearing a few feet to the right. Free and clear of Gladio's attempt at restraining him, Noct practically fell through the door and stumbled to the edge, his bodyguard fumbling desperately after him.

Not daring to pause for a backward glance, Noctis flung himself from the edge once more, performing the same death-defying leap for the second time that day.

* * *

Noct made it back to Prompto's house in record time. He had pushed himself as hard as he could to get there as fast as possible, and upon arriving at Prompto's still open ( _that negligent turd_ ) window, he wondered if his heart was going to burst right out of his chest.

Aching arms protesting, he pulled himself over the sill and toppled to the floor once again. He forced himself to his feet, noticing the distant hum of a running shower, and wasted no time in straight away ransacking Prompto's room.

Running back and forth between the dresser and closet, he rummaged and scoured until he had assembled an adequate outfit for himself.

Pulling on Prompto's jeans, he thanked the gods they happened to have similar builds. Prompto was a bit thinner than him (making the slim fit jeans, _slim_ fit jeans), but they would do just fine. He threw on a white tee and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Socks...socks...socks..." he muttered to himself, darting to the dresser once more and tearing the top drawer apart. Then back to the closet to hunt for some sneakers.

Hardly pausing to hastily tie the laces once he found a pair, he promptly set about throwing an outfit together for Prompto.

"...Noct..?" The disbelieving voice of Prompto came from the doorway. Towel slung loosely about his hips, he staggered across the threshold.

Noct barely allowed a half glance over his shoulder. "Hey," he said, turning immediately back to the closet.

"What the hell is this...?!" Prompto said, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Ah ha," Noct exclaimed, "I knew you had to own a hat." He emerged from the closet triumphantly, placing the baseball cap over his messy hair. "Here," he said, reaching for a small pile of clothes he'd set aside. He shoved them at Prompto's bare chest. "Put these on."

Prompto didn't accept the clothes, only continued to stare, dumbfounded. "What are you doing here?" he asked, hardly able to believe this was happening for the second time in one day. "...And what are you _do_ ing here?" he said, only just really noticing the mess Noct had made.

Noct grabbed his arm, forcing it around the bundle of clothes he was offering. "Put these on," he repeated, heading to the window. "Hurry."

He glanced outside, but the view aimed out towards the back of the house, and was rather useless. He needed to see the street.

Prompto dropped the clothes, stepping through the mess. "Are you going to tell me what the _hell_ is going on, or not?"

"No time," Noct said, turning away from the window. "Do your parents have a balcony off their room—ugh, I told you to get dressed!" He said, noticing the clothes on the floor. He snatched the shirt up and proceeded to force it over his friend's head.

A brief struggle ensued as Prompto, miffed at being treated incapable of dressing himself, swatted at his friend, trying to get him off him.

"Just put it on, dammit," Noct said, breaking away. "Sunglasses, I need sunglasses," he muttered. "Where are your glasses?"

Prompto pointed to the top drawer of his desk as he pulled on the shirt, and Noct flung it open, grabbing a pair of aviators. He also grabbed Prompto's phone while he was there (not bothering to check the missed calls from Gladio and Ignis), and flipped off the back, pulling the battery out.

"Here," he said, handing the phone and battery to Prompto. "Keep it like that."

He left the room, crossing the hallway in two strides to peer down the stairs at the front door. He wished he had a view of the street but the windows were covered. He was ninety-nine percent certain, however, that if he could see out front, he'd be looking at an inconspicuous black car parked at the curb.

Prompto emerged fully dressed. He approached his unmoving friend, confused as all get-out.

"Noct, seriously—" Noct swiftly clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shhh," he demanded, staring fixedly at the door.

Prompto froze, following his gaze. What the hell was going _on?_ Annoyed, he reached up and wrenched his friend's hand off his face.

Ever so faintly, the front door's knob made a jiggling sound.

"I knew it," Noct said, his voice low. "Thank God you at least locked your door."

"Who's out there?" Prompto asked, as Noct grabbed his shirt, dragging him down the hall. His heart rate picked up as a prickle of fear kicked in.

"I dunno," Noct replied, "A palace official of some sort."

Prompto knocked his friend's hand off him for the millionth time, fully capable of walking by himself. "A palace official?" he asked, confused. "What did you do, run away?"

Noct didn't answer and Prompto stopped in his tracks. "Holy hell, you ran away." It wasn't a question.

Noct turned back, noticing Prompto had stopped following, and grabbed him by the arm.

"What the _hell_ , Noct?!" Prompto demanded for the umpteenth time, tugging his arm free once more and demanding his friend stop for a moment. "Are you out of your goddamned mind?!"

Noct turned to fully face his best friend, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Yes," he replied, fervently, "Yes, for once I am out of my goddamned mind...And I need you to be out of yours with me!" His blue eyes had taken on a hint of a pleading shine.

Prompto kept his eyes locked on Noct's for a long moment, then nodded. _Of course I'll be with you. You don't even need to ask. Which,_ he suddenly realized, _you technically never did, haha_.

A grin tugged at the corner of Prompto's mouth. "Okay...let's do it." Unsure of what "it" actually was. He could just sense it entailed the promise of a crazy ass adventure. And no doubt a hell of a lot of trouble. But what adventure didn't come along with at least a little trouble? First thing was first though: escaping the house.

"Look, you can ask all the questions you want as soon as we get the hell out of here," Noct said, releasing his friend and turning down the hall once more. "Now, your parents' bedroom—is there a balcony?"

Prompto nodded, leading the way.

It wasn't large, but it would suffice just fine. They stepped out into the sunlight.

"What now?" Prompto asked, looking around.

"Just...stand...right...here," Noct replied, taking in their surroundings and positioning his friend in the ideal spot. "And—hang onto me."

"Wha—?" Prompto managed to get out before Noctis lunged at him, grabbing him tightly and knocking him off his feet.

But instead of the both of them toppling over the railing and crashing head-first into the ground, they reappeared half a block away, dangling a few feet above the ground from a power-line post.

"Ahhhhh, what the hell, Noct?!" Prompto yelled, clinging to his friend for dear life.

Noct laughed. "Relax, we're not even that high up."

"You can't just _do_ that without giving me some kind of _warning_!"

"I told you to hang on, didn't I?" Noct replied, lowering his friend to the ground.

"Shit!" Prompto exclaimed, for lack of anything better to say, as he tried to keep from having a heart attack.

Noct laughed again. "It's kind of fun though, right?" he said, dropping down and offering a hand to help his friend to his feet.

Prompto weakly swatted at it, content to keep his ass planted on the ground for the moment. A small laugh escaped him, "Screw you, dude."

Noctis laughed again, grabbing his friend's arm and hauling him to his feet. "Come on," he said, "We've gotta move." He pulled his friend along after him, the taste of freedom igniting an excitement in him he hadn't felt in a long time.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi guys! I want to give a HUGE thanks to my reviewers! You guys are seriously the best! Feedback is a writer's fuel (which I'm sure you writers yourselves are well aware of), so I'm extremely grateful you guys have been so encouraging! Thank you! It truly helps the writing process.**


	4. Chapter 4

Noctis and Prompto hurried through the streets, alternating between empty back alleyways and main sidewalks filled with ambling Sunday shoppers. They tried to stick closer than they normally would to small groups of people, hoping to blend in and look a part of the group, Noct with his head down and a slight nervous step to his gait.

They had no objective in mind at the moment, only to put as much distance between themselves and Prompto's house as quickly and inconspicuously as they could.

They had made it about a dozen blocks away, half walking, half jogging, when Prompto suddenly slowed, tapping his friend as something caught his eye up ahead. An automated teller machine. Brilliant. If only Noctis had either had a chance to grab his wallet that morning, or had been smart enough in the past to have memorized his account information. He had never thought he'd ever really need to know it, as taken care of as he always was at the palace. Not the best sign of his self-sufficiency skills, he realized, and they were barely only a half-hour into their little escapade.

They stopped at the ATM, Noct fidgeting with his hat in uncertainty. He didn't want to admit to Prompto what an unprepared idiot he actually was. Of course they'd need money, and he honestly hadn't even realized that until Prompto had pointed it out.

Surprisingly, Prompto didn't even pause to give Noct a chance to offer an embarrassed explanation. He stepped right up to the machine, reaching into his back pocket. As he pulled out his wallet, Noct also noticed the faint outline of a pistol through his shirt, half lodged into his pants.

He wasn't sure what exactly Prompto had thought to prepare for, after spotting the gun, he was just extremely thankful his friend had given half a thought to preparation at all. It was more than Noct had done.

A surge of gratitude filled him as Prompto asked, "How much do you think we'll need?"

"Oh...geez, I dunno," he shifted his weight apologetically. "Sorry, Prom," he added, ashamed for making his best friend step up when this whole thing was his idea.

"Nah, don't worry about it," Prompto waved a dismissal. "My parents gave me a card linked to their account a long time ago. For emergencies, I guess."

A weak exchange for not being there, Noct thought, but it probably eased their guilt somewhat.

"No way, how have you not taken advantage of this before?" Noct asked, bewildered.

Prompto only offered a half-hearted shrug in reply.

 _Ah_ , Noct realized regrettably, _because you don't want to feel like you owe them anything. Completely get where you're coming from there_.

Prompto counted out a considerable amount of cash, and folded it in his wallet. Noct realized Prompto had been smart to think of cash. They could have just used the card itself, but no doubt any transactions they made would be tracked—and not by Prompto's parents. By palace security. In fact, they would probably be aware of that very withdrawal at any moment—amount, and more concerning, location.

It was more than a little unnerving to think of the extent of invasiveness security was allowed. Noctis had never considered it in too much depth until Gladio had pointed it out to him that morning. It both frightened and angered him.

"We better move quickly, they'll know we were just here."

They hurried down the sidewalk and spotted an approaching bus. Perfect. Not caring where exactly it lead, as long as it was away from there, Noct gestured to his friend. They boarded, Prompto paid, and Noct exhaled as he dropped into an empty seat. Prompto joined him a moment later.

"You don't think they're monitoring all the transit systems, do you?" Prompto asked, glancing around for surveillance cameras.

"I dunno, probably," Noct replied. "Best to keep our heads down."

It was a strange feeling, going from celebrity prince one day to runaway fugitive the next. Noct wasn't entirely sure he knew how to cope with the anxiety that went along with it.

Prompto noticed the nervous tapping of his friend's leg next to him. Trying to act unfazed by the whole situation they were dealing with, he asked, "So, what's our plan?"

Noct hesitated for a moment. "Not really sure..." he replied, thinking. "I want to get out of the city."

Prompto was taken aback by that. "You—you want to leave Insomnia?" he asked, his unfazed bravado immediately crumbling.

Noct glanced at his friend, wondering why he suddenly sounded so worried at the suggestion. "Well, yeah," he explained. "How long would we last inside the city? They'll be hauling me back to the citadel within a day. And what would we even do here?"

"I don't know, what would we do out _there_?" Prompto asked.

"Explore, see some sights, do whatever the hell we want," Noctis replied, thinking it obvious. It sounded exhilarating.

"We can do whatever the hell we want here," Prompto argued, realizing as he said it it wasn't remotely true.

Noct snorted. "No, we can't. Screw this city." He glanced disdainfully out the window. The city's walls no longer seemed a symbol of protection and security, but rather a physical reminder that he was no different than a common prisoner. It filled him with a sense of forlornness that ached.

Prompto seemed to pick up on the sudden dejection that overshadowed his friend. "You really want to leave, huh?"

Noct didn't reply, just continued to stare at the passing sights, lost in thought. He wished it wasn't as sunny and pleasant as it was out. It only seemed to demean the inner turmoil he was feeling at the moment.

"If you think we can get out, it's worth a shot," Prompto went on, still sounding very hesitant. And when Noct didn't reply once more, he continued, "Do you think we can?"

"I think I have an idea." Noct finally responded. He shifted, preparing to stand. "First, let's get off at this stop, I saw a store a little ways back we'll need to stop at."

Prompto let Noct lead the way. They got off the bus and backtracked a block until they reached an outdoors supply shop Noct had spotted.

It was filled to the brim with everything needed for an outdoor adventure—tents, bags, eating supplies—everything one needed if it was true freedom they were seeking. It even smelled like the promise of adventure in there.

Both boys breathed in the scent of a hundred different leathers, filling them with invigoration. They couldn't keep the faint grins off their faces as they stumbled through the aisles of dude paradise.

Noct immediately found himself drawn to the wall lined with fishing poles at the back, while Prompto couldn't stay focused on one item long enough before another was garnering his excitement.

"Noct, Noct, check it out!" he called, donning a cowboy-looking hat. He whipped around, drawing a pointed finger out of his pocket and aiming it at his friend, making shooting noises as he did so.

"Convincing," Noct laughed, trying not to sound too patronizing.

"Man, how cool would it be to be a real cowboy?" Prompto asked, finding a mirror to check himself out in. "Ooh, check this one out," he said, tossing the cowboy hat aside as a new one caught his attention.

"Now that one's legitimately cool," Noct agreed. "There's something about the old-timey archeologist look."

"Isn't there?" Prompto said, "I almost feel like this look is _too_ cool for a gun even. What kinda weapon would I wield?"

"Whip, for sure," Noct said, turning his attention back to the fishing supplies once more.

"A whip..?" Prompto said, imagining it as he stared in the mirror. "Yeah, now _that_ would be badass!"

Noct laughed, noticing his friend mimicking whipping motions out of the corner of his eye. He ran his hand along the displayed poles hanging on the wall. Dang, he wanted all of them. How perfect would it be for the two of them to take off for the nearest lake and just spend the next two weeks lounging about fishing? With fresh lake air, a subtle breeze in their hair, and the sun glinting at them in a thousand brilliant sparkles with every chop of water that drifted slowly by. Man, it sounded too good to be true.

If only fishing poles were realistic to lug around right now, Noct thought dismally as he came back to reality. He pulled himself away from the display with a sigh.

He wandered through the store with his head screwed on straighter and started gathering what they actually needed. A small backpack for each of them, blankets, jackets, flashlights, matches, ammo, water bottles and junk food galore.

Prompto lumbered over to join his friend when they were ready to check out, the old-timey archeologist hat still planted on his head.

Noct snickered, "No, Prom," he said, taking the hat off his friend's head and tossing it aside. "We're going for 'inconspicuous' here, remember?"

"Ah, man," Prompto moaned, "Inconspicuous, shminconspicu...whatever," he said, stumbling over what he was trying to say as he bent to retrieve the hat.

Noct laughed. "Go grab a baseball cap while you're at it though. Your blond hair stands out too much."

"Yeah, yeah," Prompto dragged his feet back to the hats as he mournfully exchanged the "cool" hat for a boring cap.

"Here," Noct said, offering both stuffed backpacks to him once he returned. "If you don't mind."

"Got it," Prompto said, retrieving the bags and heading to the register. Noct was trying to avoid any and all face to face contact with anyone who wasn't Prompto. He had no idea if the cashier would recognize him, especially since he couldn't wear his sunglasses indoors, but he wasn't about to risk it.

After paying and each donning a back pack, they made their way back outside.

"Man, I am _starving_!" Prompto exclaimed as his stomach gave an unpleasant lurch.

"Yeah, me too, I'm gonna die," Noct replied. "Let's find a street vendor or something."

"Hot dogs?" Prompto offered.

"Ngh," Noctis said, making an unconvinced face.

" _Corn_ dogs!" Prompto said excitedly.

Noct responded with the same unconvinced face.

"Well, what then?"

"I dunno, we'll find something. Come on," Noct tapped him, urging him to follow.

They roamed the sidewalks, eventually stumbling upon a treasure trove of assembled food trucks a few blocks away. Prompto was so excited, he bounced from truck to truck, sampling everything they had to offer, and making sure Noct sampled a bite of everything as well ("You've _got_ to try this, dude!"). Noct humored him, sampling everything that was shoved in his face until he was well past full.

Despite being paranoid one of the crownsguard was going to snatch him from behind at any moment, Noctis managed to keep his worrying in check and even couldn't help but enjoy himself with his exuberant best friend having the time of his life around him. Prompto just made everything more fun than it should be. And Noct wasn't even sure if Prompto was capable of worrying like he was. He hadn't seen him glance over his shoulder once, and with how many times he exclaimed, "Noct!" to the world when something caught his eye as they roamed the streets that day, Noct was certain the palace officials, or accidentally revealing the prince's identity, were the last things on his friend's mind. And Noct was grateful for the light-hearted ease he brought to the whole situation. A little worried he might inadvertently blow the whole thing, but grateful his friend wasn't jittery like he was.

They spent the afternoon and evening roaming the city and laughing and joking together. They longed to stop in at every arcade they passed, but Noct deemed them too risky—the palace would expect them to be drawn to places like that.

Prompto didn't really notice, but Noct had been gradually leading them closer and closer to the entrance of the city as the afternoon and evening wore on. It was almost time to put their escape plan into effect. They just needed the cover of darkness and the shipping freights to start up their usual nightly exit from the city. Most of the big trucks utilized the lower traffic flow of nighttime to keep the daytime traffic free of large bulky vehicles, and to make exiting the city less of a hassle.

Noctis lead his friend to one of the city wall checkpoints where a trail of shipping trucks was beginning to form.

"So, what's the plan?" Prompto asked as they peered at the line of trucks from a distant sidewalk.

"We're going to get on top of one of those as it rounds that corner," Noct explained, pointing. "And stay as flat as you can so the truck behind hopefully doesn't spot us."

"You want to go through the check point on top of a shipping freight?" Prompto asked skeptically.

"Not necessarily." Noctis countered. "Since I have no idea what the checkpoint for one of those freighters consists of exactly, I'm hoping to bypass it altogether," he explained.

"Okay...how?" Prompto asked, but Noct was suddenly tugging at his sleeve.

"Come on, this is the perfect chance," Noct suddenly said, pointing at a string of three approaching eighteen-wheelers. They started towards them at a jog.

Without warning, Noct grabbed his friend's arm, urging him up ahead a few paces. Then lunging like earlier, he wrapped an arm tightly around his mid-section and warped them to the shipping container at the end of the line.

"Holy shi—" Prompto exclaimed, trying to keep from shouting as he clung once more to his best friend, dangling from the side of the shipping container. _Don't look down, don't look down_.

"Shhh," Noct said, holding fast to his friend. He lifted him as much as his strength allowed. "Here, climb up," he said as Prompto reached up to grasp the top of the container.

"Shit shit shit," Prompto said, afraid to take his other hand off the safety net that was his best friend.

Noct noticed his hesitation. "I'm not gonna let you fall," he assured him. "Go on, climb up."

Prompto took a deep breath and pulled his other hand away and to the edge of the container. Noct helped him with his free arm as he scrambled up. "Stay low," Noct advised as he reached up to pull himself up. Prompto leaned over to help him but realized it wasn't necessary—he was up in a matter of seconds and pressing them both flat against the cool metal beneath them.

The line of trucks trudged along slowly to the entry/exit checkpoint at the wall. Noctis assumed the particularly slow pace likely had something to do with them keeping a keen eye out for the prince. Noctis wasn't sure if they expected him to attempt leaving the city, but he imagined they weren't taking any chances.

It felt like ages, but finally they arrived just outside the bright spotlights of the checkpoint. They had to move quickly before the truck entered the pool of light.

"Get ready, Prompto," Noct said, nudging his friend.

"For what?" Prompto asked, turning to look at his friend.

"One more warp," Noct explained. "As soon as the truck ahead of us is clear of the checkpoint and the flood lights." Noctis stood, pulling his friend up to a crouching position beside him.

"Same thing as before?" Prompto asked reluctantly, almost wincing. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to the rush of warping, even if it wasn't unexpected.

"Same thing," Noct affirmed, taking a couple steps back.

He kept his eyes trained forward, waiting for the perfect moment to make the move. Prompto in turn, closed his.

"Hold tight again," Noct advised, and made the familiar lunge at his friend, initiating the warp.

They reappeared dangling from the shipping freight that had just previously passed through the checkpoint.

Pushing his friend up once more, Noctis pulled himself up after and rolled, a relieved laugh immediately escaping him.

"Noct!" Prompto grabbed at him in concern. "Here, sit up."

Noctis was still laughing as Prompto pulled him to a sitting position and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. He couldn't believe they'd made it! He threw his head back and stared at the stars in exuberance. They were the usual dim few that he was used to seeing, but their brightness and numbers would only grow, the further away from the city they went.

"Ahh," Noct sighed, elated, the adrenaline coursing through him starting to ease up. "I can't believe we made it."

"Yeah," Prompto said, a slight uneasiness to his voice.

Noct glanced at him for a moment, wondering why he wasn't sharing his enthusiasm. "You worried?" he asked.

"A little," Prompto admitted, shrugging. He was still trying to process the fact that they were actually leaving the safety of their home behind them. It was real now, they couldn't just turn back. It may be exciting, the prospect of a real adventure outside the city, but his best friend was still the prince—what if anything happened to him? _And what if_...Prompto wondered, _What if_ I _shouldn't be leaving the safety of the city walls either_...he unintentionally glanced at the wristband on his arm.

"Hey," Noct nudged him, "it's gonna be fine. It's gonna be _fun_ ," he insisted. "I still just can't believe we're actually free." He threw his hands behind his head and laid back against the cool metal.

Prompto anxiously reached to pull his friend up once more, not liking how careless he was being in such a precarious situation. "Let's just be careful up here, 'kay?"

Noct snorted. It was so unlike his friend to be the cautious one. He stayed sitting up next to him to appease him.

They sat atop the truck, bathed in moonlight, the cool night air rushing endlessly past them. Their conversation came and went in spurts and Noct found his excitement quickly turning to fatigue as the day's exhaustion finally caught up to him.

He hadn't noticed he had fallen asleep when a gentle prodding suddenly woke him. "Hey," Prompto said, the slight rasp to his voice clearly indicating he was just as exhausted. "Let's not fall asleep up here, huh?"

Noct took in their unchanged surroundings. He couldn't have been asleep for more than a few minutes.

"Think you can warp us down?" Prompto asked. "We can hitchhike the rest of the way to Hammerhead in the morning."

Noct agreed that was probably the wisest thing to do. It would be too risky having them both fall asleep atop a fast moving vehicle. "Sounds good to me," he agreed, forcing his aching body into a stretch.

He warped them to one of the power line poles lining the highway and they dropped to the ground with a clamor. Noct rolled to his back, his eyes closing. He was content to stay there for the rest of his life, but Prompto nudged his shoe a moment later.

"Come on, Noct, don't pass out on me yet," he pleaded. "Let's just find a spot a ways off the road to lay out some blankets."

"Okay," Noct agreed, but his body continued to disagree and refused to budge.

"Come on, dude, I'm sleepy, too" Prompto said, gently nudging his foot again.

Noct sighed, trying to mask his annoyance. This wasn't Gladio incessantly pestering him, this was Prompto. And Prompto had never been anything but nice and patient and understanding towards him. The least he could do in return was not pass out on him on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.

Although every muscle in his body strongly protested, Noct forced himself to stand and start walking. "Lead the way," he yawned.

After walking (or hiking, as Noct would have called it) for what felt like an hour (though in reality was much less), Prompto found a spot surrounded by foliage for them to roll out some blankets and get some sleep.

Noctis barely had enough energy to pull on his jacket and spread out a blanket before dropping down. Wrapping another blanket tightly around him, he briefly turned to give the bundle that was his best friend next to him a grateful pat, and then rolled over. He was out in seconds.


	5. Chapter 5

Noctis abruptly jerked awake, eyes snapping open. Was that gunfire he'd just heard? Or was he dreaming? Another loud pop in the distance caused him to jump once more. He sat up as quickly as his groggy body allowed and took in his surroundings. Gray sky, cool temperature, a relatively barren and completely unfamiliar landscape.

As usual, it took a moment for his memories to free themselves from the foggy clutches of sleep. Where the hell was he? Why on earth was he outside? Oh yeah, their little escapade from the city. Right. The semi truck. With Prompto. Prompto—

He glanced around quickly. A bundle of messy blankets was next to him. As well as about a half dozen candy bar wrappers. But no Prompto.

"Prompto?" he called, trying not to sound too anxious.

A couple more pops of gunfire gave his nerves an unpleasant jarring, and he quickly freed himself from his jumbled tangle of blankets and scrambled to his feet.

"Prompto?" he called more loudly, unable to mask the concern in his voice this time.

He quickly followed the direction of the sound up and over a small hill and exhaled in relief when he finally spotted his best friend, about a hundred yards ahead of him.

Prompto lifted an arm in greeting and went back to target practice while Noctis jogged over to him.

"Sorry," Prompto said as Noct approached him. "I tried to get a good ways away, but I figured it'd likely wake you anyway. I was just getting bored as hell waiting for you to wake up."

"It's fine. You didn't have to let me sleep in. What time is it anyway?" The gray overcast day offered little clues as to the position of the sun.

Prompto just shrugged and reloaded the gun. Noct had expected his friend to be a little chattier. He was acting uncharacteristically quiet.

"Have you been up for a while?" Noct prodded.

"A little while," was all Prompto offered in return. "You might want to cover your ears."

Noct did so as Prompto fired away at a series of makeshift targets he'd set up on the opposite hillside. Prompto had exceptional aim; Noct was impressed.

"Nice," Noct said once the clip was emptied.

Prompto didn't reply, just spun the gun a few times. He reached into his jacket pocket and tossed a candy bar to Noct.

Noct gratefully accepted it. "Thanks," he said, tearing it open as Prompto sat down on a rock next to him. Noct was still surprised Prompto wasn't talking yet. He wasn't used to having to pick up the conversation slack, and he wasn't very good at it.

He took a bite of the candy bar, chewing slowly. "So...we've got your birthday coming up in a couple weeks," he ventured, hoping to lighten his friend's mood. "You'll finally be joining the official adulthood club."

Prompto gave a small half-smile but his voice lacked the enthusiasm Noct was hoping for. "Sweet, any perks to it?"

"Oh yeah, loads. Get to start setting your own bedtime and everything."

Prompto snickered faintly, "No kidding? How exciting."

Noct had a sneaking suspicion that Prompto was wondering if he'd even live to see his eighteenth birthday once Gladio got ahold of them both. And it was only a matter of time until he did.

A thick guilt had been welling inside Noctis and was threatening to spill over. His usual happy-go-lucky best friend was clearly troubled by their current predicament. It was rare to see him so dispirited. And Noct could only blame himself. He'd practically kidnapped his friend, forcing him to join him on this...whatever it was. It certainly wasn't the adventure he was hoping for. No food, no plan, the guilt of leaving everyone back at the palace in a complete lurch—it was all beginning to weigh heavily on him now with his newfound level-headedness after getting some rest.

He had a fleeting glimpse of a bloodshot Ignis, endlessly scanning through city surveillance footage all night, not getting a wink of sleep. And a high strung Gladio, desperation practically seeping out his pores as he hopelessly scoured the city, also choosing to forego sleep. He could hardly imagine how worried they must be.

Ugh, it made his stomach turn. They hadn't deserved that. No matter how bad their argument had been the previous day.

Noct's appetite was suddenly nonexistent. He flung the half-eaten candy bar away in disgust. Dropping his head, he clutched at his hair. "Agh, what the hell am I _do_ ing?!"

Prompto's gaze snapped to him, his brow furrowed.

"I know this whole thing was so stupid," Noct admitted miserably. "And I dragged you into this fool-ass of an idea, thinking it'd be some kind of adventure, and all I managed to do was heap a shitload of trouble on the both of us. Like I don't even know where to _begin_ to dig myself out of this one."

Prompto shifted uncomfortably, unsure if this outburst was inadvertently his fault or not.

"And you've got midterms this week and a birthday coming up, and I was so damn selfish to not even _ask_ for your input on the whole thing," he forced himself against the weighing guilt to look up at his friend. "I'm sorry, Prompto."

Prompto rubbed his neck uneasily, wishing the conversation hadn't taken such an unexpected turn. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to be afflicted on his behalf. "Hey, if I didn't want to come with you, I could have said so," he explained, hoping to somewhat ease his friend's mind.

Noctis gave him the most doubtful sideways glance. Prompto would have jumped off a bridge with him if Noct asked him to. He knew Prompto wasn't capable of telling him no. And he hated himself for taking advantage of that.

"It's just something I _had_ to do," Noct tried to explain. "I dunno, I just had to take some semblance of control over my own life," he went on, "I had to know it was possible..." He wasn't really sure what he was trying to say, and he didn't want to unload too much on his startled friend. "I've just felt so trapped lately. Like my life has zero purpose. Grow up, obey the rules, be a good little prince. Take my dad's place as caretaker of the crystal. Get old and useless prematurely. And waste what's left of me in endless trivial meetings. That's my whole existence summed up right there." He wrung his hair once more in despair.

Prompto just stared, his face wrought with sympathy. He had no idea his friend had been burdened with such thoughts lately.

"Sorry," Noct said, immediately standing and pacing a few steps away, unsure of what else to do, but unable to sit still any longer. "I don't mean to unload all this 'whiny entitled prince' shit on you."

"Hey," Prompto urged, trying to think quickly of the best way to alleviate his despondent friend. "It's not like you don't have a choice in any of this, Noct."

Noct gave a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah? Gladio made it quite clear yesterday that I in fact have absolutely no choice in the matter."

Prompto laughed, catching Noct off guard. "Look around you, Noct," he gestured. "If you really want to just up and quit the whole prince thing," he gestured again, "then that's what you'll do. I don't think anyone can stop you once you've set your mind to something." He paused for a moment. "You've got to stop putting so much pressure on yourself though, dude. You're only eighteen. You have a long time to figure out the details of your future. And I guarantee it's not going to suck as bad as you're thinking." He paused. "Know why?"

Noct looked at him.

"'Cause Gladio, Ignis and I—we're not going anywhere. We'll help you figure all this shit out."

The tiniest of grins tugged at the corner of Noct's mouth. This is why Prompto was his best friend. He just knew what to say. He always knew what to say. And he was right. Why had he thought himself so alone in the matter? He had three friends—as close to him as brothers—who wouldn't abandon him no matter how crappy things got down the road.

Noct's thankful half-smile faded abruptly as his thoughts traveled back to his closest aides at the palace. "Ugh, Gladio and Ignis," he ran a remorseful hand through his hair. "Holy shit are they going to kill me."

"They're just gonna be relieved you're ok," Prompto insisted. "But...yeah, you'll definitely catch some hell from Gladio, for sure. We both will," he paused briefly. "Is the plan to go home, then?" he asked, his spirits clearly lifting, despite the thought of a confrontation with Gladio. "Do you want me to call them?"

He reached into his pocket to grab his phone and battery, when a distant sound suddenly caught his attention. He paused, listening.

Noct heard it, too. "What is that?"

Prompto froze on the spot, the color immediately draining from his face. He didn't know how exactly, but he was certain he knew what that was.

Noct glanced at him, puzzled.

Prompto whirled, immediately booking it to the top of the small hill.

"Prompto!" Noct called, quickly following after.

"Holy _shit_ ," Prompto whispered once he reached the top and caught sight of it across the sky. An imperial transport. Only a few miles off.

Noct caught up to him, slightly winded at the unexpected uphill sprint. "What's wrong?" he demanded, turning to follow Prompto's gaze.

Prompto was once again completely frozen, his eyes wide.

"What's the big deal?" Noct asked after spotting the transport. "It's probably just a routine fly-by. They don't know we're here, they're not even headed in our direction." He was so confused by Prompto's reaction. Sure, the empire was not something they wanted to tangle with by any means, but as long as they laid low there was no chance of that happening.

No sooner had he said that, however, then the craft slowly began to alter its course towards them.

Prompto found himself unconsciously wringing his right arm against his chest.

Noct was still staring at him, at a loss.

"...Hello?" Noct's voice finally tore Prompto's attention away from the slow-moving transport and back to him.

"Huh?" Prompto asked.

"I said, 'What's wrong with your arm?'" Noct repeated, watching his friend closely.

Prompto hadn't realized he'd been twisting at his wristband so fervently. He immediately dropped his arm to his side. "N-nothing," he stammered.

Noct just continued to stare, brow fully furrowed. He had no idea his friend had such a fear of the empire. It was unlike Prompto, and a little unnerving.

"Dude, are you okay?" Noct asked, his worry evident.

"What?" Prompto asked, still completely distracted as he stared ahead, heart pounding out of his chest. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," he stuttered, stepping backwards. "Let's just...let's just...keep as much distance between us and them as possible," he finally turned and started running.

"Prompto!" Noct called, his friend's unexpected split taking him by surprise. He ran after him. Prompto wasn't kidding the day before when he described himself as fast. Noct could barely keep up with him.

"Dude, what the hell?" Noct panted, finally catching up as Prompto slowed to turn for another glance at the floating transport.

Prompto was still wide-eyed, his breathing shallow and erratic. "I just...I just want to make sure we're not in its path," he explained, abruptly changing directions and taking off at a sprint once more.

Noct was once again caught off-guard, still trying to catch his breath as he was. "Prompto!" He called, starting to get a little aggravated. "What the hell...?" he muttered, once again taking off after him.

Noct was in shape, but he was no match for Prompto's conditioned running. He initiated a warp in order to catch up to his friend.

"Good thinking," Prompto said, glancing at Noct once he was by his side once more. "Can you warp us ahead a couple times? That'll give us some distance," he slowed to a jog.

"Will you freaking _stop_ for once if I do?" Noct demanded. He grabbed his friend's arm and warped them. The exertion was starting to catch up to him.

"Once more," Prompto pleaded, for once not seeming to mind the rush of warping.

"Ugh," Noct groaned, having had enough of this absurdity.

"Come on," Prompto pleaded again, tugging at him to keep up.

Noct initiated another warp, bringing his friend along with. That did it, he absolutely had to stop for a break.

"Prompto, please," Noct huffed, begging him to stop for a moment.

Prompto pulled his friend down behind a nearby boulder, and Noct dropped back against it, filling his starved lungs.

Prompto turned to peek over the rock, and once Noct was able to move again, he did the same.

Inexplicably, the transport appeared to slowly alter its course in their direction once more.

"What...the hell...?" Noct said, fully confused and now more than a little perturbed as well. "It's like they can sense me or something..."

Prompto was stiff next to him, and Noct wasn't even sure if he was breathing anymore. "Prompto..?" he asked, turning to glance at him.

Now whiter than a sheet, Prompto swallowed hard, still keeping his eyes plastered on the slowly approaching transport.

"Noct," he licked his dry lips, "you've got to stay here, buddy."

"Huh?" The confusion just kept mounting.

"Stay here and stay down, okay?" Prompto demanded, despite his voice sounding weak and breathless.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Prompto simply gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and took off once more, faster than ever.

Noct's breath caught at the sight of his best friend intentionally booking it away from him. "Prompto!" he yelled angrily. He scrambled to his feet, his energy mostly recovered, and took off after him for the hundredth time.

"Prompto!" he shouted at him again as he still showed no sign of slowing.

He initiated another warp, bringing him right next to his fleeing friend. Grabbing his arm, he wrenched the younger man around to look at him.

"What the hell, man?!" he demanded. "Are you _ditching_ me?" his voice was riddled with disbelief and anger, and a note of betrayal as well.

Prompto only shoved him away and took off once more in another direction. "Get away from me, Noct!" _It's not you they're tracking_.

Noct stumbled backwards, almost losing his footing, a look of complete incredulity marring his face.

" _Prompto!_ " Noct was just straight-up mad now.

He warped once more and lunged at the retreating blond, knocking him off his feet. They skidded in a heap across the rocky terrain and Noctis was on top of him before Prompto even had a chance to roll over. An intense scuffle ensued, as Prompto frantically struggled to get back to his feet, and Noctis refused to let him do so. Noct didn't have too much on Prompto weight-wise, and Prompto was surprisingly strong for his slight build, but Noct had the advantage of years of training with Gladio, not to mention the experience of being helplessly pinned by Gladio as the result of at least a thousand wrestling matches. He'd learned a few moves from the bigger man, despite the fact they were usually useless against him. Prompto was a different story, however.

It was less than a minute before Noctis found himself perched triumphantly atop the blond, his torso heavily straddled, wrists pinned firmly overhead.

"Ow—gah—get off," Prompto said, struggling desperately beneath him.

Noctis looked him full in the face. "The hell's _wrong_ with you?!" he demanded.

Prompto continued struggling, and Noct tightened his hold on him. The struggling gradually ceased as he realized he was only wasting energy. He closed his eyes, gasping to catch his breath.

"Prompto," Noct demanded again, refusing to be ignored. "What the hell is going on? You're scaring the shit out of me. _And_ you're pissing me the hell off!"

Prompto just lay there, trying to keep from hyperventilating. The transport was gradually gaining ground on them.

"It's _just_ a passing transport. Why are you freaking out?! They're not going to be dropping any troops out in the middle of nowhere. And if they did, I couldn't take them alone, and I know _you_ sure as hell couldn't!" He paused, making sure his friend was listening despite his refusal to make eye contact. "So splitting up is _not_ an option, got it?!"

Prompto managed to nod weakly.

"If I let you up, will you calm the hell down?"

Again, Prompto offered a weak nod.

Noct reluctantly backed off his friend and dropped onto his backside, once again needing to garner his strength.

Prompto scrambled to his feet and paced to and fro for a moment, hands on his hips, trying to decide what to do.

Noct was still breathing deep, his head momentarily drooped between his knees, as he tried to recover from the draining skirmish with his best friend.

He suddenly heard a resigned sigh above him, followed by his best friend pleading, "I'm so sorry, Noct."

Noct looked up at him—far too slowly. Before he realized what was happening, Prompto pistol-whipped him as hard as he could across the side of the head and lights exploded across his vision.

Noct grunted as his eyes immediately slipped shut against his will. He slumped to his side, unconsciousness quickly claiming him.

Prompto just stood there a moment, numbly staring at his lifeless friend. He could hardly believe what he'd just done. _God, I'm so sorry, Noct. I had no choice_.

He fumbled in his pocket for his phone. Shakily putting the battery back together, he turned it on and brought up Ignis' number.

It rang once.

" _Prompto?_ " Ignis answered immediately, his normally calm voice bordering on frantic. " _Where is he?_ "

"He's here with me. We're both fine. Well, Noct's kind of unconscious at the moment, but that's my—"

" _Where are you?!_ " Ignis cut in. " _I just saw surveillance footage of you leaving the city._ "

"Uh, yeah, we're just a ways outside the city."

" _We're on our way now. Stay where you are and leave your phone on_ ," Ignis ordered, " _We'll tap into the GPS_."

"Listen, Ignis, I have to go," Prompto said, desperately trying to keep his voice from shaking as much as it was. "There's an imperial transport heading towards us. I know this sounds crazy, and please don't ask why, but...I think it's tracking me." If he had to hint his secret to anyone, he was glad it was Ignis. Ignis had a way of never judging before knowing all the details. And even when he learned the details, he was still slow to judge. Prompto had always liked that about him. "It's not safe for me to stay with Noct. My phone will be with him. Get to him as soon as you can."

" _Prompto_ —"

Prompto hung up. He quickly bent and grasped his unconscious friend under the arms, feeling sick with guilt as he did so. Dragging him behind a nearby boulder and praying he'd stay safe and hidden until Ignis arrived, Prompto dropped his phone on Noct's chest, turned, and started running.

* * *

The first thing Noctis became aware of as he slowly climbed out of the darkness engulfing him was that his head had decided to split in two.

The searing slit of light that assailed his vision as his eyes slowly cracked open only confirmed that his head was indeed splitting.

He groaned, wishing the darkness would welcome him back once more. But no, he was definitely waking up. And something at the back of his aching mind was telling him it was important to do so—something had happened. He hadn't entered the usual blissful state of unawareness willingly this time.

He attempted to sit up but his throbbing head protested too strongly. So he settled with forcing his eyes open, blinking heavily at the searing light that only intensified the aching.

He was in the backseat of a car, slumped against someone. Gladio. It had to be Gladio. Noct's head lolled listlessly against his solid arm.

That would be Ignis in the passenger seat in front of him. He turned to lock eyes with the prince ever so briefly, after hearing him regain consciousness. He didn't say anything, however, only looked down for a moment and turned back around.

Gladio was also aware the prince had awoken but made no move to acknowledge it.

The atmosphere in the car was thick with enmity and disappointment. Noct would've had to be blind and stupid not to pick up on it. He knew it was all directed at him. And he knew he couldn't blame them.

But he also didn't care at the moment.

"Where is he?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse from being out.

He forced himself to finally sit up, biting his lip to keep from wincing at the pain in his head.

"Where is that little shit?"

He'd noticed it wasn't Prompto on his opposite side. It was Cor Leonis, marshal of the Crownsguard. And he wanted to know where Prompto was. He owed him immediate hell for that complete bitch move he had pulled on him. Why had he done that?!

"Where is he..?" Noct asked, wondering why no one was answering or even acknowledging his question.

"We don't know where Prompto is," Ignis answered evenly, still facing forward.

... _What?_

His anger immediately dissipated as apprehension took its place. "What do you mean? He was just with me."

He pushed himself up and craned his neck to glance out the back window, convinced another car must be following, carrying Prompto. But the road was empty for a ways behind them.

His sudden slight movement had put both Gladio and Cor on edge. He could tell they weren't taking any chances with him this time.

"Did you try calling him?" Noct demanded.

Ignis reached back, offering something to the prince. Prompto's phone. Noct's stomach suddenly turned to ice.

"So you guys just left him out there?" He asked, incredulous. "You _left_ him?!"

His aching head completely forgotten, Noct was quickly entering full freak-out mode.

"Noct, we need you to remain calm," Ignis insisted, his too-calm voice riling Noct up even more. "We have no intention of leaving Prompto. We'll send someone back for him as soon as we return you to the palace."

"But he's out there right now! Alone! What happened with the imperials? What if something happened?!" Noct was finding it impossible to sit still. He reached for his seatbelt buckle, but Gladio noticed and snagged his wrist in a vice-like grip, squeezing a little more tightly than he meant to.

"Noct," Gladio finally spoke, "Calm. Down." He had zero patience for any more of the prince's antics, and he didn't trust himself to say anything more, for fear his temper would get the better of him again.

Noct was already formulating a desperate plan. Phase through the seatbelt. Phase through the roof. Immediately warp for a powerline pole. Run like hell. Find Prompto.

His breathing escalated even further. He could pull it off. He had to.

As if reading his thoughts Gladio suddenly tightened his grip even further. "Noct," he warned dangerously. "Don't even think about it."

But Noct was already struggling against him, trying to break free. He couldn't get a proper phase through the roof of the car with Gladio restraining him like that.

Gladio immediately grabbed for the prince's other arm, ensnaring it in a similar death-grip and leaned heavily against him, pinning him against the seat. Noct struggled hopelessly against him.

"Marshal," Ignis suddenly cut in, offering a hesitant nod. It was a go-ahead signal. And Noct would rather have not found out what for.

But he had no choice, pinned as he was by his massive body guard. He desperately tried to phase a few times but failed. He couldn't do it without the necessary momentum.

He suddenly felt a harsh prick in his left bicep and the world immediately began to move in slow motion around him. His struggling suddenly felt like it was happening underwater.

"No..." he pleaded weakly, his voice quickly faltering.

His racing pulse started to slow, his erratic breathing began evening out, and the desperation that consumed him only moments ago seemed to merely dance faintly at the edge of his awareness. His limbs turned to jelly as he slumped into a limp heap against his bodyguard once more.

Heavy lids half-closed, he stared ahead, vaguely watching the slow motion world around him. His breathing became unnaturally deep and heavy as he slipped into a completely detached state of feeling.

Ignis watched the prince remorsefully as the sedative took effect. He wished they hadn't had to do that. It pained him seeing the prince in any type of incapacitated state. "Check his pulse, Gladio," he said softly.

Noct was barely aware of the faint pressure on his neck.

He floated for a long time, treading the thin line between consciousness and unawareness—not fully dreaming, although his scattered thoughts seemed to be filled with the same flashes of blond hair, and an old hat, and pancakes and laughter, and something so important to him—why wouldn't his mind let him fully remember?

Too tired to fight it anymore, Noct sank deeper into his detached state and let the darkness welcome him fully once more.

* * *

 **Author's note: So, just a few points to clarify- First, I'm so sorry if any of you are disappointed with the direction of this chapter! I never really intended for their "adventure" to amount to much. Mainly because I'm trying to keep the characters' actions as (hopefully?) realistic and in-character as possible, and I just don't think there's any way Noct wouldn't have snapped out of it by the next day and realized his foolishness. And also the guilt, I think that would have really gotten to him. So, I'm sorry if you were hoping they'd keep running, but Noct's a pretty smart kid and was quick to realize they were just a couple of dumb teenagers with no plan.**

 **Also, I'm not certain if this is canon or not (it probably isn't), but I'm assuming there's more than just a barcode on Prompto as evidence of his past. It's my assumption that he likely has an ID/tracking chip implanted in him somewhere as well. It only makes sense to me with how often the imperial transports are able to find you wherever you are in the game. And also how Ardyn seemed to be tracking their every move as well. That's just my little theory. And the MT's will go off course to investigate/collect if one of their own strays shows up on their radar. That's what was happening in this scene anyway, hope it made sense.**

 **As always, thanks for reading! And for your feedback; it's been so appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

It was difficult for Noctis to wake up. More so than usual. There was something unseen, something foreign that weaved through his consciousness, holding him hostage against his will. It was in no hurry to ease up on him, and Noct continued to struggle against the unknown assailant streaming through his veins, leaving him dead to the world.

He wanted to wake up. He didn't remember giving himself the go-ahead to fall asleep, and he vaguely knew he shouldn't be out at the moment. It was unnatural. But try as he might, the drug continued to prevail, keeping him subdued and under its control.

So Noct continued to drift, his muddled thoughts consisting mostly of fleeting glimpses of blurred colors and indistinct images. But after what felt like a very long time, they gradually began to take shape.

He found himself in a familiar setting. Limited mobility. A thick blindfold. A hard floor. A vague sense of extreme frustration. It must have been a memory? A recent one.

"You're almost there, Noct!" Prompto's voice sounded distant, despite the fact that Noct knew he should be right next to him. His excited echo reverberated faintly around the vast room.

"Come on, you're really almost through it!" Prompto's voice was laced with laughter, brimming with its usual infectious liveliness. The distant echo of it filled Noct with encouragement and a sudden unexpected sense of nostalgia. For some unknown reason, Noct was suddenly anxious to see Prompto next to him. The hint of distance behind his friend's voice made him nervous, though he wasn't sure why.

A snap of rope and his wrists were free! Prompto gave a victorious whoop, the sound of it even further away than before. His triumphant, light-hearted laughter bounced around lightly, each echo fading quicker than the last.

Noct fumbled with the blindfold, eager to regain his vision. He flung it off, squinting against the harsh light, the last echoes of Prompto's spirited voice quickly diminishing into silence.

Noct blinked. The room was empty. Prompto wasn't there.

His stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. He couldn't make sense of why exactly he was so worried. But something at the back of his jumbled confusion was telling him he was right to be—that his worry wasn't unwarranted. He just wished he could make sense of it all.

The scene suddenly disintegrated around him and he found himself in a new setting. Once again familiar.

He had just tumbled to the floor of Prompto's bedroom, the first hints of dawn filling the room with a bluish-gold glow. Another recent memory?

He had been looking for Prompto. He was desperate to find him for some reason, though he couldn't remember why.

Unanswered calls. An empty bed. Noct vaguely remembered the sense of urgency that had brought him there. A faint recollection of tortured screams. Prompto's tortured screams.

Again, Noct's stomach twisted in knots. What was real and what wasn't? He couldn't remember. Where was Prompto?!

He stumbled out into the hallway, his breath sealed away in uncertain fear. Blindly staggering down the corridor, he abruptly froze when he heard the sound of a door flinging open.

"Ba da da, ba da da, bada bada bada," Prompto's energetic voice echoed through house, flooding Noct with relief and a renewed anxiousness to finally see his friend.

Once again though, Prompto's voice had a tinge of distance to it, and Noct was desperate to get downstairs.

A fridge banged open. Glass bottles clanked against each other.

Noct bounded down the last steps and rounded the corner...and was immediately met with an empty kitchen. No Prompto in sight. He stood there, dejected, a sense of forlornness overwhelming him.

 _Prompto should be here. Why isn't he here?_

The scene dissolved abruptly once more and Noct suddenly found himself facing a wall of fishing poles. He'd seen them before; he remembered how enticing the sight was.

"Noct, Noct, check it out!" Prompto called excitedly from behind him.

Noct whirled. "Prompto?" he called, scanning the scene before him. Seeing nothing but endless rows of outdoor equipment, he bounded through the aisles, searching. Prompto was there. He had to be.

Prompto's laughter echoed around him, always just around the corner or an aisle away. Noct hastily followed its trail, his desperation now marked with growing frustration.

"Prompto!" he called.

He was only answered with the same echoing laughter, inadvertently taunting him as it grew more faint.

Noct found himself standing next to a hat stand, the hats untouched and neatly arranged.

It sparked a memory. Suddenly flooded with distress, Noct threw the rack to the ground, scattering the hats everywhere. He was sick of this bullshit. He just wanted to see his best friend! He should have been right there with him. Why wasn't he there with him?!

The hats vanished, quickly replaced by rocks and small boulders. He was outside. The landscape stretched out before him, small hills and a barren terrain. A gray chilly morning.

He'd been running from something. No, Prompto had been running from something, and he'd been chasing after him. From what though? He couldn't remember. The only thing he could recall was the peculiar apprehension and fear that had consumed his friend.

Why had he been so scared?

And where the hell _was_ he? He should have been right there with him. Noct was certain he had been there with him.

He hastily scanned the horizon, unnecessarily shielding his eyes from a nonexistent sun. And suddenly in the distance, he spotted a figure. It was running. He could make out light hair.

Noct's breath caught in surprise, hoping against hope it was indeed who he had been searching for.

"Prompto!" he shouted, taking off after him as fast as his legs allowed.

The figure didn't slow. Nor did he acknowledge he had heard a call of any sort at all. He just continued to sprint ahead, unheeding.

"Prompto!" Noct yelled again, straining his voice to its limits. He was running short on breath already, and Prompto was getting too far ahead.

He warped, instantly leaping yards ahead. But it didn't seem to affect the gap between them much at all.

"Prompto, please!" he pleaded, begging his friend to at least turn and acknowledge him.

He warped again. And again, and again. But it still seemed to have little effect on the space between them. His best friend remained too far ahead, showing no signs of stopping or tiring.

Noct, on the other hand, had pushed himself past his limits. He attempted initiating another warp, but he didn't have it in him. The weariness consuming him, he tripped, stumbling forward and skidding roughly across the ground. Gasping for breath and ignoring the scrapes, he hastily pushed himself to his hands and knees, scrambling to get to his feet once more. He only managed another stumble, all but face-planting in the dirt.

He rolled to his back in despondent defeat, knowing his best friend was now out of sight. He screwed his eyes shut against the sudden burning behind them, grasping at his hair in dismay.

"Prompto..." he whispered with what small ounce of breath he had left.

The scene faded again, replaced by an all-too-familiar encompassing darkness. He'd seen too much of it lately and he wanted out.

And surprisingly, it slowly began to diminish, the black backdrop gradually lightening to a more welcomed gray. Whatever had been holding him prisoner was steadily loosening its hold. Noct was finally waking up.

* * *

Noct's eyelids felt heavy. Everything about him felt oddly heavy, actually. It was a struggle to open his eyes, as they seemed abnormally slow to respond. Everything seemed abnormally slow to respond.

A slit of light entered his vision. It was a start. He groaned, willing his body to listen to him. Why was it taking so long to wake up?

He blinked once, twice, and finally his eyes opened. It took a moment for them to adjust to the dim lighting.

Where was he? What happened?

He groaned again, attempting to sit up, but his sluggish body wasn't ready to allow for that yet, so he settled for taking in his surroundings.

He was in bed. Well, he was in _a_ bed, but it wasn't his. The room looked familiar enough though, the palace decor was unmistakable. But it wasn't his room. Why hadn't they placed him in his own bedroom? And why had he needed "placing" of any sort anyway? He had been unconscious, that much he was sure of. One doesn't usually wake up with the mobility of a sack of bricks from normal, healthy sleep. But why? His mind, as sluggish as his body, couldn't remember.

"Awake, Highness?" a familiar voice asked from across the room. It was Ignis. His sudden announced presence was an immediate comfort to the prince. Although it sparked another unexplained emotion in the prince as well: guilt. Noct wasn't sure why. He was so mixed up.

He attempted to sit up again as Ignis made his way over, but his muscles still felt too lax. It was starting to worry him a bit now.

"Take your time getting up. The sedative hasn't yet completely left your system," Ignis explained, approaching the bed. He bent, slipping a hand under the prince's neck and gently lifted him, placing a couple more pillows behind his back. It allowed him somewhat of a sitting position.

"...Sedative?" Noct asked, his voice cracking from lack of use. He didn't know what Ignis was talking about, but he had a feeling it was a tidbit of information that was going to upset him once he finally remembered what the hell was going on.

"You'll forgive us for administering it, I hope," Ignis further explained, righting his glasses as he straightened. "We were under strict orders to return you home without exception," he paused briefly, "and as Gladio expected, you weren't exactly willing."

Return him home? From where?

"How are you feeling?"

Noct took a moment to answer. "I feel...off. Just...sluggish. Groggy." _And confused as hell._

"Give it a little while," Ignis assured him.

Slowly but surely, a few recollections began trickling in. Noct suddenly had a funny feeling that he was in trouble—that everyone was upset with him for some reason. Although Ignis didn't seem to be giving off that vibe at all at the moment. He was in his usual full blown caretaker mode, hovering no further than an arm's length away.

Noct hesitated. "Are...are you..." he paused, still unsure why he was asking, "mad at me?"

Ignis stood there, watching the prince stoically for a moment. Noct could never tell what was going on inside that head of his. "As your chief advisor, Highness," he finally responded, "it isn't part of my position to ever be 'mad' at you, as you put it."

"But...as my friend?" Noct asked, glancing down.

Ignis just watched him again a moment longer. It was obvious the prince was very out of sorts. "As both your advisor and friend," he replied, "was I distressed by your actions? Yes. Was I disappointed in your reckless disregard of every imaginable protocol that's ever been put in place? Yes," he paused. "But I have a feeling you'll be enduring some considerable lecturing later on, so I'm not certain how constructive it would be to add mine to the mix at the moment."

Noct looked up at him, his mind still scrambled. He couldn't recall what Ignis was talking about, but by the sound of it, he was in some pretty deep shit. What had he done exactly?

"Is...is Gladio mad?" Again, he wasn't sure why he was asking. He just had a feeling Gladio was especially unhappy with him for some reason.

"Gladio is...well, he's been somewhat on edge the last couple of days. Understandably so."

That must have been Ignis' nice way of saying "yes."

It kind of explained the vague sense of guilt plaguing Noct. He wasn't entirely sure he even wanted all the details to come back to him now.

He found himself suddenly getting sleepy again. _That damned drug. What did they use on me?_

He had one more nagging question though, as brief glimpses of his troublesome dreams had partially returned to him.

"Ignis...where's Prompto?"

Ignis didn't immediately reply. The prince was on the verge of drifting again, and he wasn't keen on distressing his already uneasy, addled mind.

"Prompto's location is...well, it's what we're working on at the moment, Highness," he said softly, grateful the prince would be out before getting a chance to ask what he meant by that.

Noct's eyes had involuntarily slipped shut again, and his breathing fell into a light, regular pattern.

Ignis watched him for a brief moment, reflecting on the previous hellish thirty-six hours. It was such a relief to have his charge back in his care. The complete and utter lack of knowing anything—whereabouts or condition of the prince was something he hoped to never experience again. That was the feeling of failure. Failure in his duties. It was something he could never accept—would never allow to happen. It didn't help in the least, however, when it was the prince's own actions, his own decisions, that had brought him so close to that brink of failure. But not only was it his charge that had disappeared on him, but it was also his closest friend. And he may not admit it to anyone (it would be unprofessional), perhaps not even to himself, but deep down he feared losing his friend even more than he feared failing in his duties.

What had lead the prince to behave in such a foolhardy manner though? And how could he effectively help and advise him to correct such behavior without antagonizing or alienating him? It could be such a delicate situation dealing with the prince at times. Especially at his current age.

Nightmares, outbursts and outright rebellion against his royal position, _running away_...Ignis shook his head slightly and sighed internally. He had quite a lot to discuss with the prince. He would wait for now though. Wait for the right time and above all, remain calm and collected. Always.

Ignis took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. The fatigue was catching up to him now. And he didn't have time to deal with fatigue at the moment. He needed to check on the current status of the search for Prompto. He hoped he'd have good news to deliver to the prince when he woke again.

* * *

When Noctis awoke a short time later, the fog that had hindered his thoughts and memories had lifted. The drug had finally run its course.

He sat up with a start, the abrupt movement causing his head to throb slightly.

It had all come back to him. Their escape from the city, the imperial transport, Prompto running from him...Prompto—why had he knocked him out?! What the _hell_ was that all about?

The car ride, the drug—he suddenly fumed. That had been extremely bogus and unnecessary of them. Why had they done that? True, he may have been plotting another half-assed escape attempt, but that didn't mean they had to knock him out. God, what was with his so called "friends" that day? Was he really that difficult for them to deal with?

He swung his legs out of bed. He was still fully dressed in Prompto's clothes, although they (undoubtedly Ignis) had pulled his shoes off for him.

His first thoughts normally would have been along the lines of, _Man, I need a shower._ But they weren't. The only thing occupying his mind at the moment was, _Where is Prompto? Have they brought him home yet?_

He made his way to the door, not even noticing the tray of food on the nightstand.

Flinging the door open, he was immediately met by two members of the crownsguard.

"Your Highness," one of them said, lifting a hand and blocking his way. "His Majesty, the King, requests you stay in here for the time being."

"What?"

"The King wishes you stay in your room for now, Highness."

Noct was dumbfounded. They'd placed guards at the door? He was seriously being held a prisoner in his own palace?

"But, this isn't my room," he stated. "I was just going to head there now, actually. I'm sure my father won't mind." He moved to pass them, but he was blocked once more.

"I'm sorry, Highness, but we can't let you pass."

 _Unbelievable._

Noct glanced down the hallway. Sure enough, there was another pair of crownsguard soldiers stationed at warping distance. Just in case he tried anything. He noticed spell flasks on their belts. Most likely sleeping spells. Since that was everyone's default way of dealing with him lately.

Noct resisted the urge to scoff in their faces at how incredulous the situation was. He didn't want to cause a scene, however, so he unclenched his teeth and said, "Look, could you at least find Ignis for me? I really need to see him."

"He said he'd be back shortly, your Highness."

Noct turned, and struggling to keep his temper in check, resisted the urge to slam the door behind him.

He couldn't believe it. He was a legitimate prisoner in his own home.

 _I must be in deeper shit than I realized._

True, he had left the citadel twice without permission. And warping off the balcony had to be breaking at least a dozen rules regarding his abilities. Not to mention leaving the city itself without authorization—that certainly had to count as more than one strike against him.

Maybe his father was a little justified in locking him away in a room for a while. He probably deserved it. And it suddenly made sense why he was in this guest bedroom rather than his own. It didn't contact any of the citadel's exterior walls—there were no windows, no balcony.

Noct let out a frustrated sigh, pacing the room. He just needed to hear about Prompto, dammit. Couldn't they have at least left him his phone so he could call Ignis?

He ran both hands through his hair in exasperation. His breathing was quickly escalating, the feeling of being trapped already getting to him. He couldn't stand feeling that way. And he didn't know how to cope with it—it made him extremely restless and agitated.

He tried forcing himself to sit on the edge of the bed, his leg immediately bouncing out a nervous pattern. He stood and paced again.

 _Ugh, do they honestly expect me to just sit in here and wait all day?_

He ran a hand down his face. What time was it anyway? He needed his phone.

He didn't necessarily intend to, but he couldn't help formulating another escape plan. It couldn't be helped—he was too worried about Prompto.

He made his way to the bathroom on the opposite end of the room. It was a good size, the shower was large. And if memory served him correctly, he was certain there was an identical guest bedroom and bathroom that mirrored the one he was in. Just on the other side of the wall. He stepped into the shower, sizing it up. There should be plenty of room.

 _Piece of cake._

He moved immediately towards the shower wall, almost as if he was going to ram his shoulder into it. But instead of any ramming occurring, he phased...and emerged on the other side of the wall in a mirror-image shower of the one he was just in.

 _No way, that was awesome! How have I never tried that before?!_

He felt a rush of adrenaline and a sudden sense of exuberant invincibility. He couldn't be contained! It was a rather empowering realization.

The guest bedroom was unoccupied, thankfully, and he made his way across the floor and out the door. He'd go grab his phone, come back, and the guards would be none the wiser.

He trod briskly through the palace halls in his stockinged feet. He must have been a sight. He was aware of how many wide-eyed stares he attracted as he made his way through the corridors. No doubt his unkempt appearance—no, he was long past unkempt—his straight up grody appearance was a little appalling. And he was certain rumors of his latest shenanigans had already made the rounds. He tried his best to ignore all the eyes on him.

He was almost to his bedroom when a quiet figure suddenly sidled up next to him, gripping him under his arm none too gently.

"I must have missed the training session where Gladio went over how to safely phase through walls," Ignis seethed sarcastically, squeezing Noct's arm a little tighter than he probably meant to.

 _What? How did he know already?_

"Oh, hey Iggy," Noct said in a feeble attempt at feigning innocence.

Ignis was practically lifting half the prince's weight off the floor as he dragged him the remaining way to his bedroom. Noct wanted to brush him off, but he could tell Ignis was really needing to vent some passive-aggressive frustration, so he let him continue squeezing the life out of his arm.

They reached his doorway and Ignis gave him a fairly well restrained push inside. Noct could tell he had driven his advisor to the end of his rope.

"Don't ever attempt that again, Noct," he said in no uncertain terms. "What if you accidentally phased only half-way through? What if you phased into an object you weren't aware was there, because _your abilities do not include the gift to see through walls_."

So he had not only pissed his advisor off. He'd scared him. He hadn't meant to.

"Sorry, I just..." Noct stammered, "I needed to find you," he explained. "Where's Prompto?" he demanded. "Have they brought him home yet? Is he here?" Noct was hoping the phasing incident could be overlooked for the moment, as he was desperate to hear some news of his friend. Surely they had returned him home by now. He didn't know what time it was, but he knew it had been hours since they'd been separated.

"We'll discuss Prompto when you're ready to behave like an adult."

 _Ouch. That was a little harsh for Ignis._

"Now, hurry and shower and get dressed. Your father is wanting to see you."

Noct stared as Ignis turned on his heel and left the room. He'd never seen him that outright upset before.

He felt like shit. He'd managed to completely piss off everyone around him—Ignis included, which hardly seemed possible. He'd now ruined any immediate chance of hearing about his best friend, of whom he was getting more and more worried by the minute. And worst of all, he was going to have to face his father.

Noct stripped dismally, letting his clothes fall where they may across the floor as he made his way to the bathroom. He turned the shower on scalding hot and just stood there for a long time, letting the water stream through his hair and down his back in an endless cascade of discomforting warmth.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi, guys! I'm so sorry for how delayed this chapter was. Thanks for your patience. I've been dealing with the first trimester of pregnancy for the last several weeks (although it's felt like an eternity), and it just hasn't been fun. That, and this was a tedious chapter to get through. Without the dynamic between Prompto and Noct, I just found myself getting bored every time I'd sit down to write. Lol, I guess it's my own fault for writing Prompto out of the story though, right?**


	7. Chapter 7

Noct emerged from the shower, the normally refreshing routine leaving him dripping and dispirited. He felt drained. And depressed. And so frustrated and worried at the same time, it was starting to drive him mad. Not having any answers as to Prompto's whereabouts was tormenting.

He shouldn't feel drained, he'd practically done nothing but sleep all day. Although it hadn't been by choice. And none of it had been natural. So, he supposed it made sense he wasn't feeling particularly well-rested.

The depression he felt was self-inflicted. He had drawn everyone's ire on himself, and he knew it, and he absolutely hated how lousy it felt. He didn't mean to keep digging himself deeper, but that was the situation he kept finding himself in over and over. It was his fault his friend was alone outside the city, and he just needed some answers. And to help however he could.

He sighed as he toweled off, wringing the water from his dripping hair. It felt good to finally be clean, although he had no desire to observe his newfound cleanliness in the mirror. There was a good amount of self-loathing plaguing him at the moment. And he was in no mood to see his own stupid face looking back at him like the self-entitled screw-up that he was.

His bathroom was large, however, and the equally massive mirror was unavoidable. He unintentionally made eye contact with himself several times, noticing how young and inadequate he looked. It added a hint of anger to his despondency. He really was just a stupid kid, just like everyone else thought he was.

 _I'm supposed to be king of Lucis someday? Look at me._

A king should look like Gladio—imposing and brimming with prowess. Not some skinny "pretty-boy," barely pushing 5'7". He'd heard enough snickering behind his back at school to know what he was. And maybe they called him that out of jealousy, but it still made him feel less of a man.

He sighed once more, running his fingers through his hair and calling it good. He didn't feel like wasting any time on his appearance at the moment. He needed to attempt another conversation with Ignis before his father got ahold of him. And that could happen at anytime, he realized, the thought filling him with dread.

He wrapped his towel around his waist and headed back to his bedroom. He had barely taken two steps when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. There was a figure standing at the wall of windows that overlooked his balcony and the city.

Noct's breath had frozen halfway from his lungs. He knew that silhouette. Everyone in the palace—no, the kingdom—knew that silhouette.

It turned towards him, and Noct felt a panic beginning to rise in his chest, urging him to turn and bolt back into the bathroom, and lock the door behind him, and die in there before ever willingly coming out again.

But he knew that wasn't an option.

His father was facing him now, and Noct suddenly felt so small and self-conscious, and he couldn't for the life of him recall how he was supposed to appropriately behave in this situation. It had been so long since he'd faced his father in such an informal setting, and his own half-nakedness was really throwing him off.

"Father!" he exclaimed in surprise, relieved his voice was working, despite his breath still being lodged somewhere in his throat. _Wait, was that right?_ "Your M-Majesty," he added uncertainly, not sure if the correction was necessary. _Should I bow?_ He decided against it.

His father merely stood there, straight and tall (despite his recent acquisition of a cane), gazing at him unmoving for a moment, though it felt like an eternity to Noct. He finally lifted an arm in gesture, pointing towards the bed.

"Ignis laid those out for you," Noct's eyes followed to where an outfit lay spread upon the bed. "Get dressed, and then I'd like to speak with you."

Not much for a greeting, but Noct was extremely grateful for the chance to escape and regain his composure. He made his way to the bed, his movements stiff and unnatural, and gathered the clothes in a heap. He walked backwards to the bathroom, his eyes glued to his father.

"I'll, uh...I'll hurry," he offered lamely, gesturing with the bundle of clothes in his arms.

He shut the door behind him and immediately leaned against it, his breath finally dislodging itself and immediately going to the other extreme, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation.

He ran a hand through his hair, clutching at it. "Shit," he muttered. He hadn't expected to be caught so off-guard. He wasn't ready to face his father. He was never ready to face his father. And yet here he was, having to face his father.

True, his father wasn't Gladio. He couldn't recall ever having received the figurative verbal beat down from him. Anytime he got in trouble, it was usually Gladio and Ignis (mostly Gladio) that dealt with the initial lecturing and disciplining. And then his father would meet with him and inadvertently make him feel like worse shit than his aides ever had. It was the calm disappointment of his father that really got to Noct. He hated admitting it, but he _craved_ his father's approval. It was everything to him. And any interactions with his father were so sparse and limited, that when they were spent in an atmosphere of disappointment, Noct couldn't handle it.

"Ughh," he muttered as he dressed himself with slightly shaky hands. It probably didn't help his anxiety any, but he couldn't help quickly skimming over a mental list of all the offenses he'd committed in the last couple days.

He left the citadel without permission—twice. He warped off his balcony—twice. He evaded palace security at Prompto's house. He essentially kidnapped Prompto. He warped on and off a moving semi-truck several times. He left the city itself without permission. He was responsible for his friend getting lost outside the city walls and warranting a search party (at least that was his speculation). He'd caused his aides to resort to sedating him. And he had missed school that day. Did that cover everything? Oh, and he had phased through a wall, leaving a room he was clearly told he was to stay in. Aaand that pretty much covered it.

 _Wonderful_ , Noct thought, running a dreary hand down his face.

But as much as he may have wanted to, he couldn't hide in the there forever. His father was waiting. He took a deep breath...and then took another deep breath. And then took one last deep breath. And finally exited the bathroom.

His father was now seated in one of the armchairs near the windows. Upon seeing his son emerge, he gestured to the chair opposite him.

Noct closed the space between them much quicker than he would have liked, and reluctantly took a seat.

He stared at the floor, unable to meet his father's gaze, although he seemed to be able to feel it boring into him. He shifted, trying to sit straight, despite wanting to sink into the chair and disappear. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands. And he felt like he was breathing abnormally again.

"Noctis..." his father's voice finally cut through the thick silence. "What's going on, son?"

Noct looked up at him, finally bringing his gaze to meet eyes that mirrored his own in all but color. He didn't have an immediate answer for his father.

"I...I don't know," was all he had to offer, as he dropped his gaze back to the floor.

"Leaving the citadel unescorted? Misusing your abilities? ...Fleeing the city?" His father's voice was stern but not as anger-laced as Noct would have expected.

Noct opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Not knowing what to say, he knew there was no point in either confirming or denying his father's accusations. They were true, and they both knew it. He closed his mouth again, staring hard at the rug.

They sat in silence for a moment, the king thoughtfully studying his son. Noct was practically squirming under his gaze. It was unbearable.

"When I was sixteen years old," the king suddenly began, "I was adamant I was going to grow up to be an explorer."

Noct looked up at him, curious.

"After discovering a book in the citadel library detailing rumors of all the undiscovered tombs of the kings of old, I was fascinated and determined that I was going to find them all. Nothing sounded more thrilling to the stifled, bored teenage prince that I was. I told my parents I intended to renounce my royal position, and I made ready to leave the kingdom that summer—with all the expected 'preparations' a sixteen-year-old young man would think to make."

Noct studied the lines on his father's face—so many new creases he couldn't recall seeing before. There seemed to be more and more worry-etches every time he encountered his father nowadays.

"And when I was informed that career path was out of the question, and found my exit route out of the city barred, I was devastated. I attempted running away several times, much to the chagrin of Cor and Clarus, of whom such behavior was severely frowned upon. They were always both so annoyingly 'by-the-book,'" Regis reminisced fondly. _Sounds awfully familiar_...Noct couldn't help thinking."But you can probably imagine the contempt of a sixteen-year-old young man, accustomed to getting his way in every other regard, now being told his one dream was foolish and impossible at the time."

Noct found his posture had inadvertently relaxed against the back of his chair. His breathing wasn't so erratic anymore. There was something very calming about his father's voice, and he was grateful. He had not expected their conversation to go this way in the least.

"I'm not excusing your behavior, Noctis. But if you think you're the first in our royal line to find yourself facing a 'quarter life crisis' of sorts, you're sorely mistaken."

Noct just continued to watch his father, awe at his unfaltering regality, gratitude at his unfailing understanding. How had he forgotten that was one of his father's most admirable and primary traits?

"If anyone understands the burden you feel settling upon your shoulders as you venture into manhood, it is I. And would that I could lessen it for you, son," a look of sincerity (and was that pity? Noct wondered) flitted across his regal visage. "Nevertheless," he continued, his voice suddenly stern, "such a reckless disregard for rules and your own royal responsibilities is not to be tolerated, nor ever displayed again."

Noct's eyes dropped to the rug once more, his ears suddenly burning in shame.

"Your actions may have put a close friend in danger," Noct's gaze dipped even further. "which carries a form of guilt that little else compares to."

And that incomparable guilt had been chewing a hole through Noctis' stomach all afternoon. He reluctantly raised his eyes to meet his father again. "What do you know of Prompto, father?" he asked, trying to keep the anxiety behind his voice in check.

"I'll let Ignis go over those details with you. He's been the one in contact with the search party."

Noct went stiff at the words "search party." So Prompto hadn't been brought home yet. And he was in fact still lost enough to warrant a whole team of palace officials out there looking for him. It was the first snippet of details he'd heard, and it wasn't good. He felt like a significant amount of color had suddenly drained from his face.

"Please, dad," he suddenly found himself pleading, all formalities forgotten, "please let me join them. It's my fault he's outside the city, and it's my fault—"

"Noctis," Regis raised a hand, cutting his son off. "I know you would deem your contribution to the search party necessary, but I'm telling you now, it is not."

Noctis opened his mouth to interject, but his father continued. "Rather than focusing all their effort on the objective at hand, the crownsguard would be anxious about your safety as well, and it would be seen as an unnecessary distraction."

"What has all my training been for then," Noct cried in frustration, "if I can't even be expected to watch my own ass for a few hours, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the crownsguard?"

"It's not a question of adequacy," his father responded calmly, "as much as it is a question of privilege. And it should come as no surprise your privileges are _quite_ depleted for the time being."

Noct didn't have a valid argument for that. He stammered for a moment, grasping for anything that would make his father change his mind. "Please, dad. Please don't keep me locked in here," the thought of being shut away in his room again was intolerable, "Not when my best friend is lost because of me. It's my fault, I have to find him," his voice was gradually escalating, "The thought of being left here with no way to help, and no details on the situation, it's just...it's just unbearable."

That was quite the outburst for the normally impassive prince. Regis watched him sympathetically for a moment. "I'm sorry, son," he finally sighed. "But it's not solely my decision. Cor and Gladio aren't keen on the idea of having to keep an eye on you again. And Ignis informs me you have exams on Wednesday and insists you spend tonight and tomorrow focusing on studying."

Noct's shoulders sank, completely deflated. He knew there was no way he could talk himself out of having to study. _Midterms? How in the hell am I supposed to give two shits about midterms when Prompto's out and about, God knows where, because I dragged him out there, and now I'm not allowed to go help bring him back?_ Ughh, it was beyond maddening.

"Noctis," Regis suddenly cut in, his voice thoughtful. "I know you're angry and frustrated at the moment, and I know you didn't ask, but you may find this information useful someday, so I'm going to share it, regardless. In case you're ever curious as to how I came to terms with the calling I rejected as a young man, and ended up embracing it fully, I'll tell you this: I studied hard, I learned the value of service, and I fought for my people, in the most literal sense of the term," he paused, his eyes drifting to a different time as he reflected. "I discovered a love for the people of Lucis that outweighed my own selfish desires. And I discovered my calling as king did not have to be a barrier, but could instead be a vehicle for opportunity," he stopped for a moment. "I was able to fulfill my childhood dream of exploring. Only I fulfilled it in due time, when I was actually prepared and my friends were willing to accompany me. And I did it for the benefit of my calling, not in spite of it. I've seen many of the tombs of old, Noctis. And the treasures I found there, in the literal and figurative sense, only aided me in becoming a more able king. Because I sought them out properly and worthily."

Noctis' dismay was on pause as he listened to the sudden and unexpected monologue from the king. He had no idea why his father thought it pertinent to share that information at the moment, but he fought to stay polite against the anger plaguing him.

After studying his son for a long moment, Regis continued, "You're a loyal friend, Noctis, that much is certain. But what else is it that drives you? What are your hopes and dreams? And how can your calling facilitate, rather than hinder those aspirations?" He paused, aware his son was caught off guard by his questions. Caught off guard and drawing a blank. "I want you to really think about it, son."

The king drew himself to his feet, the action taking a bit more effort than Noct would have liked. He didn't think he would ever get used to the sight of his father with a cane. Noct's eyes followed him as he made his way to the door.

"One more thing," Regis said, stopping to turn before making his way out of the room. "I don't want you to ever forget," he said, his words carrying a weight to them, "that I am first and foremost your father before I am anyone else's king." He kept his gaze locked with his son's for a long moment, then nodded ever so slightly, turned, and left.

Noctis stared after him, a hundred new forms of hollowness opening up inside him. Why was that? Whenever he parted from his father he was left feeling so...so... _unworthy_ of him. He didn't know how to explain it, not even to himself.

He slumped against the armchair, completely dejected. How was it possible he just kept feeling shittier and shittier by the hour?

Noctis wasn't sure how much time had passed as he sat there, slouched and unmoving in the armchair.

Hopes and dreams? Where had that nonsense come from, he wondered dully. He was a prince, he wasn't allowed to have dreams of his own. His whole life had been laid out for him since birth. And how was he supposed to give half a shit about "hopes and dreams," when Prompto was still AWOL at the moment?

He still hadn't budged an inch when Ignis let himself into the room several minutes later. Pushing the door open with his back, he carefully swung a tray of food inside. He paused briefly upon laying eyes on the apathetic prince, still flopped carelessly in the armchair.

"Tired, Highness?" he asked, crossing the threshold.

Noct merely offered the faintest of shrugs in reply.

Ignis crossed the room, approaching him. "You're clearly in need of some sustenance." He gently nudged the prince's stockinged foot as he set the tray on the coffee table. "Come on, sit up." His eyes lingered on the prince for a moment longer. "You look as if you've lost half your body mass in the last two days."

Noct reluctantly pushed himself up in the chair. True, he did feel emptier than ever. But he wasn't entirely sure it was all simply due to lack of food. His appetite was still pretty nonexistent, even though he knew he should be starving.

"Ignis," Noct began, "can we _please_ talk about Prompto?"

Ignis didn't look up from neatly arranging the utensils and unfolding the napkin. "After you eat," he insisted.

Noctis wanted to groan in frustration and grab his advisor by the shoulders and shake him until his stupid glasses went flying off his face. But he refrained. He took a sharp breath through his nose to calm himself, and forced himself to reach for the tray, hardly noticing what he was eating as he began to shovel it in.

"There's no need to suffocate yourself," Ignis observed, taking a seat in the opposite chair.

"Yes, there is," Noct insisted, speaking with his mouth full since he knew Ignis hated that, "because you're being an insufferable, bossy tight-ass. As usual."

Ignis raised a brow impassively, not particularly surprised the prince was in a bit of a mood. He usually ended up in one when he went that long without eating. "If I was certain you wouldn't waste away without my 'bossing,' then I'd be less insistent. As it is, however, you appear to be on the verge of what Gladio would label a 'hangry' meltdown."

Noct stopped his chewing to give Ignis a look, completely unimpressed. It was rare for his advisor to outright tease him, but he'd often find a loophole by claiming to use Gladio's words, not his. He swore he saw the faintest smirk cross his advisor's face ever so briefly. _Smug bastard_ , Noct thought, though mostly out of fondness.

Shoving the last bit of food into his mouth, he chewed quickly, swallowed, and before he'd fully regained his breath, said, "'Kay, done. Prompto?"

Ignis reached for the water bottle, brandishing it at Noct. "First, drink. You're dehydrated."

"Ugh, seriously, Ignis," Noct said, completely exasperated, as he complied by snatching the water bottle. He guzzled it as quickly as he could, letting a good amount dribble down his chin and shirt in his haste, not only aiming to get through it quickly, but also knowing it would annoy his aide.

"Charming, Highness," Ignis said, leaning forward with the napkin.

Lowering the bottle after chugging its contents, Noct took a moment to catch his breath. A worry had started growing at the back of his mind that Ignis may have been so insistent about eating first because he knew Noct might find it impossible after hearing about Prompto. His appetite was very fleeting in the face of bad news.

 _Please don't be bad news_.

Noct brushed the napkin-dabbing man off him, and looked to him expectantly. "Well?"

Ignis sat back against his chair, adjusting his glasses. He inhaled. "Prompto's exact location is still unknown," he began, meeting the prince's gaze evenly. "We've had top members from intelligence on-site all afternoon and evening. A large portion of the crownsguard. Cor and Gladio both opted to participate—"

"Where is he?!" Noct demanded.

"That's what we're all trying to determine, Noct."

"What of the imperials, Ignis? Did Prompto encounter them? Did he get away? Did they—did they take him?" it was a little difficult to get those words out, "...And why did he knock me out?!" Noct suddenly fumed slightly, recalling the bogus move his best friend had pulled on him.

"One question at a time, Highness," Ignis replied. "It is indeed likely the imperials may be involved," Ignis finally admitted. "To what extent, I can't expound upon. And as to why Prompto deemed it necessary to render you unconscious, I'm still trying to work that one out as well."

"Well, he called you didn't he? What did he say?"

"Merely that he was concerned for your safety. He was adamant the imperials not get anywhere near you," Ignis explained, choosing to keep Prompto's concern of being tracked confident for now.

"Oh, so it's fine for him to face the imperials alone and unprepared, but heaven forbid the precious prince be left conscious to do the same! I'm so sick of everyone making decisions like that for me! I've been training for years, goddammit, I'm capable of handling myself!" Noct knew he was mostly ranting to himself now, but he couldn't help it, he was so worked up. He ran a distressed hand through his hair. "Ugh, _why_ did he do that? Prompto would never do something like that to me. It just doesn't make any _sense_."

Ignis sat there watching him stoically. No, it didn't make sense. What had Prompto meant? Why on earth would an imperial transport be tracking him? Perhaps the stress and fear of the situation had lead him to imagine up some delusion. But Prompto hadn't sounded hysterical on the phone. He'd sounded very much in his right mind. Like he knew exactly what he was talking about. He had hinted at something. Something only he must have known. But what? Why had he deemed his presence a danger to Noct? And if he was indeed taken, why on earth would the empire kidnap a random Lucian citizen? None of it made any sense.

"Ignis—?" Noct's voice cut through his thoughts, drawing his attention back to the present.

"Hm?" Ignis asked, quickly meeting the prince's gaze and sitting up straighter. He hadn't meant to tune the prince out, and he hoped it hadn't been too obvious.

"I was asking you why you think the empire would ever kidnap a random civilian?" Noct was wringing the empty water bottle for all it was worth. It was clear this conversation was getting to him. Noct didn't handle anxiety and worry very well.

"I don't know, Highness. I've never heard of it happening before. But the empire has been growing more and more bold lately, it seems. I wouldn't put much past them nowadays."

Noct swallowed hard. He had never actually considered the thought of Prompto being taken by the transport as an actual, legitimate possibility. But now that Ignis was treating it as such, it was really starting to scare him. His breathing was starting to get a little shallow.

Ignis watched him closely, noticing the change in breathing and the nervous tapping of his leg. He knew the prince hated it when he advised him to remain calm, so he forced himself not to. "Noct," he said gingerly, "try not to get so worked up. We'll find him."

Noct forced his leg to stop its annoying twitching, aware that his advisor was watching him closely now. He couldn't get too upset or Ignis would bring the conversation to an abrupt halt. And he needed more answers.

"I just don't get—" Noct was abruptly cut off by Ignis' phone going off.

Ignis quickly glanced at it, "A moment, if you don't mind, Highness," he said, rising to his feet and striding across the room as he answered the call.

Noct went back to staring at the floor, hoping to appear indifferent, while at the same time clinging to every word Ignis said.

"Yes," Ignis answered. A long pause while he listened. "Yes, I see..." Another long pause, followed by, "They're certain...?" Noct could hear a hint of dread behind his advisor's voice. His blood suddenly took on a slight icy tinge. He swallowed hard again. _Please don't be bad news, please don't be bad news_. "Well, certainly they'll deploy the Glaives then..." Ignis' voice was low. It was clear he would rather not have the prince listening in on this particular conversation. "Yes...yes...all right. I'll be in touch shortly." He hung up and slowly turned to face the prince once more.

Noctis' eyes snapped to meet his, demanding an explanation. "What was that about?"

"That was Gladio," Ignis offered reluctantly, uncertain of how much he wanted to share. He paused, debating with himself.

"Ignis..." Noct said, a slight warning behind his voice. If he was seriously planning on keeping further information from him...

Ignis exhaled. "They have reason to believe Prompto was indeed abducted by the transport and taken to a nearby imperial base."

Noct froze. His blood ran cold. _...What did he just say...?_

* * *

 **A/N - Regis is just such an overall badass. I love him and I really hope I somewhat did his character justice here. The two things that I believe comprise the king are firstly, his mercy, and secondly, his overwhelming love for his son. I don't think Noct ever fully grasped how much his father truly loved him. (That snippet of cut footage from the game, with Regis holding a young Noct in the rain with tears streaming down his face? Kills me. How could they not have included that?)**

 **Also, thank you so much for your kind words regarding my pregnancy! So nice of you guys. (I'm out of the first trimester, feeling so much better, and it's a BOY, which we were really hoping for since our first is a girl.)**


	8. Chapter 8

Pain and fear. That was all that currently comprised Prompto's world. Darkness, uncertainty—they skirted around the edge, not far off. But it was mostly the pain garnering all his attention at the moment. He hurt. And they meant for him to. The MT's had been rough with him, but that was nothing compared to his current predicament.

His shoulders groaned, stretched to their limit, restrainted as he was. He urged himself not to struggle for the hundredth time—it would accomplish nothing, save evoking a new wave of pleading protests from his aching muscles.

 _Just stay still. Don't think about the pain. Keep it together. Keep it together._ An uncomfortable stinging had been gathering behind his eyes, moisture welling despite his best efforts to keep it at bay. _God, keep it together_ _,_ he urged himself. The fear was mounting immeasurably. Fear of this inescapable nightmare. Fear of the man in the lab coat. Fear of them turning on the contraption again, or whatever the hell it was, causing more pain. He didn't think he could take anymore.

"NH-01987."

Prompto knew he was being addressed. He was all too familiar with that particular sequence of numbers and letters, despite wishing he could forget its existence by keeping it forever hidden from the world. But it would always be eternally etched on him—both literally on his branded wrist and figuratively in his scarred mind—reminding him he was not and would never be "normal."

The man in the lab coat stepped closer. "Did you really think yourself forever safe behind Insomnia's 'impenetrable' walls?" Another step closer. A slight sneer. "It was inevitable you'd find your way back to us eventually, NH-01987." Prompto knew he was being taunted, only being addressed by his codename—the man hadn't even asked if he had another. And he couldn't deny it was effective.

"Insomnia will eventually fall, and you'll be grateful you're on the right side when it does." The man was watching him closely. "Regis is a fool, growing exponentially weaker by the day. And as soon as that worthless child-prince becomes king, that's the day it's all over for Insomnia."

Prompto forced himself to look up, glowering. He knew he was being goaded. The man would know his loyalties lay solely with Insomnia and its royal family. But he couldn't help reacting. Noctis was his best friend, and a legitimately good kid—he worked hard at his calling as prince, despite what anyone might say. Prompto was one of the few who knew how truly demanding it was. And he'd be damned if some piece-of-shit imperial was going to badmouth his closest friend right in front of him.

However, when he saw a faint glint of triumph in the man's eyes, he realized just what a fool he'd been by reacting.

"You seemed to take a little personal offense to that, NH-01987."

Prompto attempted to backtrack, dropping his glaring gaze. A firm hand immediately grasped his chin, forcing him to look up once more. Prompto tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go, and the grip holding him was unyielding.

"You'd be about the same age. Have you perhaps met the prince? Do you know him personally?"

 _Why the hell would he suspect I know Noctis?_ Prompto wondered, confused. There were thousands of teenagers the prince's age in Insomnia. And Noctis knew practically only a handful of them.

And then something caught his eye on the desk. It was his wristband they had removed. The black one he had swiped from Gladio's gym bag a while back—black and embroidered with the royal crest. Something no random Lucian citizen would have owned. Of course he had happened to be wearing that one on this particular day. It was on par with his shit luck.

Prompto forced himself to remain as still and unmoving as possible. _Don't give him anything. Don't give him anything._

"Vital signs suggest an affirmative response, sir," the assistant behind the computer screen suddenly chirped in.

 _What the hell kind of interrogation is this?!_ Prompto wondered desperately. Why were they torturing him if they could practically read his mind anyway through monitoring his pulse or his breathing or whatever the hell they were doing?

A faint click and the pain was back. The electrical current immediately laced through his bloodstream, scalding fire that burned through his vasculature, down to his very bones. He jerked and writhed involuntarily against it, desperately seeking an escape, but held fast as he was, there wasn't any. His very mind was set ablaze with the all-consuming, fiery pain.

Another faint click and the pain was gone as quickly as it had come. Prompto slumped weakly against his bonds. Had he been hollering? He couldn't tell if the soreness lining his throat was from the pain itself or from his own yelling. He hoped he hadn't given them the satisfaction of screaming. But he had no control against that all-encompassing pain.

"I expect an answer when spoken to." The man said, completely unfazed by Prompto's distress. Rather, he seemed almost faintly amused by it.

"I will ask you again, do you know the prince?"

Prompto merely remained slumped in his restraints, still attempting to catch his breath and regain some semblance of composure. Black lines flitted across his vision. He attempted a shrug, but it proved too strenuous for his shackled, throbbing arms.

His head immediately snapped to the side, a whole new set of black spots darting across his sight as the lab technician backhanded him across the face. Prompto blinked heavily, completely dazed.

"What's your name?" The man demanded, suddenly changing directions. Prompto was uncertain why the man suddenly found that piece of information worth knowing, and he would rather not provide it. He was losing his grasp on the situation, however. His lamenting body was begging for a reprieve, and it seemed an impending loss of consciousness was the only way out. He wished it would come quickly.

"Answer me or face the pain again."

"P...Prompto..."

A series of tapping against a keyboard. "There's a Prompto Argentum that attends school with the prince."

Was that information public? Prompto wondered vaguely, still addled. Or was that guy somehow accessing classified information?

Another series of taps and clicks. "They appear to be quite close, sir, according to these photographs."

The lab technician stepped away for a moment to glance at the screen. Prompto was too weak to look up, but he didn't need to in order to picture the smug smirk spreading across the man's face.

"So, you're more than merely familiar with the prince," the man said, a subtle hint of glee behind his voice. "What are the odds our very own stray would have connections to the Lucian royal family?"

Prompto was only half-listening, the full gravity of their new discovery evading him in his bewildered, disoriented state.

"You've been inside the citadel? Have you seen the crystal? Do you know where it's kept?" A newfound sense of appreciation for the rare subject that had stumbled into their possession ignited an eagerness in the man. He wanted more information.

 _What?_ Prompto wondered, the fear having lessened slightly, overcome by the ever-lingering pain that coated his senses, dulling his thoughts and awareness. _Crystal?_ _Why would I know anything about the crystal?_

"Answer me!"

A faint click and the pain returned anew. Once again racing through Prompto's veins, reaching out to scorch every cell of his thrashing body. God, it hurt. He needed a way out, he needed it to end, _God, please make it end._

Another switch and he was torn free from the gripping torment once more. He hung limply, barely able to gather the strength to breathe now. They must not realize they were killing him. Or they simply didn't care.

"Sir, another round and he's sure to lose consciousness."

The man in white seemed unperturbed. "I wonder what form of negotiations the royal family will be inclined to enter into to ensure the safety of their precious plebeian here." He was clearly excited at the prospect of suggesting the thought to his superiors.

"Sir..." the assistant piped up again, "I finally managed to access his encrypted file..." They had found it strange his old and long-inactive file within their database had been protected. They assumed it was likely accidental. "...You might want to see this."

The technician made his way to the screen once more, peering over his glasses. His movements stiffened as he poured over the information.

"Could this be true, sir...?" the assistant questioned hesitantly. "...his...biological son?" He said quietly, swallowing against the disturbing information he was trying to process.

A few moments passed before the technician snapped back to the situation at hand. "Print that out for me and then close it immediately," he ordered. "Remove any trace that may indicate you accessed it." He glanced quickly at the prisoner, hanging helplessly in his bonds, barely conscious.

"We'll want to transfer him to headquarters as soon as possible."

The assistant glanced nervously at the prisoner who had suddenly taken on a new air of importance. Connections to the Lucian royal family _and_ the Imperial higher ups? Who was this kid they had stumbled upon? He was suddenly wary they may have gone too far with the interrogation.

"How are his vitals?" It was clear the technician was having the same train of thought.

"Weak at the moment, but steady enough."

"Let's get going on his blood work—make certain it matches the contents in that file." He wanted to be sure he was indeed the prize they suspected he was, before delivering him to the capital.

Prompto was barely aware of the voices around him. They had taken on a muddled echo of distance, and he could no longer make sense of their meaning. His entire body ached and smarted, and he was desperately wishing they would release his arms. It was becoming more and more difficult to hold his own weight up as he edged ever closer to the brink of darkness luring him, and the strain against his arms was unbearable.

He barely noticed as he was pricked and prodded, the sensations drawing further and further away. The only coherent thought affording him the smallest hint of solace before slipping away was, _At least Noct isn't here. At least Noct is safe..._

* * *

"No..."

"No!"

"NO...!"

 _Oh God, not this_ _,_ Noct pleaded, faintly aware he was dreaming. He'd had this dream before. The darkness, the anguish of his best friend's voice. It was a dream he'd desperately hoped to never revisit.

"Please..." Prompto's voice was a pained whimper.

 _Prompto..._

"Do you know the prince?" The voice was unfamiliar. Unfamiliar and menacing.

"ARGHHH, GOD, STOP!" Prompto shouted, pleading. "Please...AHHH... _please!?_ "

 _Prompto...!_

"I grow tired of asking. Do you know the prince? Do you know of the crystal? Have you seen it?"

"No...I...NO! No-oh-oh-oh...GOD, PLEASE!" The agony behind Prompto's voice was unbearable. Noct couldn't take it. He would do anything, give anything to make it stop.

 _Please...Please, make it stop. Please, make it stop._

"I'll ask you one more time. Do you know the prince? _Answer_ me!"

Prompto's voice was reduced to a series of nonsensical whimpers, the pain too consuming to allow a response.

 _Prompto_...Noct pleaded. _Prompto!_

Nothing but silence answered him. Silence and the most gaping emptiness Noct had ever felt. It threatened to consume him whole, swallowing his very existence in its entirety. It was his fault his best friend was in pain. It was his fault his best friend was suffering and no one could do anything to relieve him. It was his fault...

* * *

Noctis awoke with a start, jolting upwards as he gasped, his face abruptly peeling away from the textbook it had been plastered to. He rubbed at the imprint in his cheek and ran a trembling hand through his hair, clinging at his roots.

"Son of a _bitch_..." he whispered, his dream leaving him shaken and unnerved. He dug at his eyes with his palms, banishing all traces of sleep and wishing the memory of Prompto's tortured voice would go with it.

Ugh, how had he fallen asleep? He had been sitting at his desk, last he could remember, staring blankly at his textbook and trying not to think too hard about Prompto's presumed situation. And next thing he knew he'd awoken from that damned dream. Again.

He knew studying wouldn't actually be possible with his mind as distracted and fretful as it was. But he hadn't thought sleep would be possible either. He must be more fatigued than he realized, his unconscious stints earlier that day offering little to no genuine rest.

And now his mind was flooded with a whole new slew of worries. He hastily untangled a hand from his hair and grabbed for his phone.

True to form, Ignis answered straightaway. _"Highness?"_

"Ignis?" Noct said, trying to keep the alarm behind his voice under control. "Is there anything linking me to him?"

 _"Pardon?"_

"Is there any reason—anything you can think of—that would give the imperials cause to believe Prompto has any sort of connection to me?" Noct was almost stumbling over the words, talking as quickly as he was.

A brief pause. _"...None that immediately comes to mind,"_ Ignis responded carefully.

"Ignis," Noct said, practically cutting his advisor off, "What if they suspect? What if they suspect he's close to me?" he asked frantically, "What if they—what if they torture him?!" It was clear the thought was beyond distressing for the prince. "What if they find out who he is and try to use him as some twisted form of leverage against me? Against my father?" Noct couldn't keep his tone of voice from rapidly climbing.

 _"Noctis,"_ Ignis cut in evenly, _"Leaping to the worst possible baseless scenario isn't going to help anyone right now, least of all Prompto."_

Noct tried to take a breath at Ignis' feeble attempt at reassurance.

 _"Please try not to work yourself up. We're handling the situation. There's no reason to suspect the imperials have taken any sort of special interest in Prompto."_

 _Right, apart from kidnapping and holding him at their base? How is that not "special interest?"_ Noct wondered _._ He resisted scoffing. "What if they learn his name? Can they get anything from his name?" he demanded.

Ignis paused again, reflecting quickly. _"I don't believe his name has ever been printed, seeing as he's still a minor. And your school records should both be private..."_ It was apparent Ignis was now giving the subject a bit of worrisome speculation as well, which didn't help any in easing Noct's mind.

 _"As for social media accounts, security's been diligent about keeping both of your online activity as private as possible."_

What did "as private as possible" mean exactly?

"Ignis, please...Just be square with me...Do you think Prompto's situation is compromised further in any way because of me?" _Apart from me being the reason he's in this nightmare in the first place..._

 _"...Noctis, there's no way I can accurately speculate what Prompto may be going through at the moment,"_ Ignis replied honestly. _"All I can tell you is we're all just as concerned for him as you are, and as anxious to return him home. The glaives are already on the move on-site and the extraction team will be deploying shortly. If all goes according to planned, Prompto will be back in our keeping by morning."_

Noct was silent for a long moment, trying to glean as much comfort as he could from Ignis' words. Try as he might, however, any reassurances were lost on him in his completely apprehensive and despondent state.

 _"Please, Highness,"_ Ignis continued after a long silence. _"Focus on your studies for now and try to get some decent rest. I know how troubled you are, but you need to trust that we're handling the situation."_

Noct still had no response, lost in thought as he was.

 _"I need to return to managing communications, Highness,"_ Ignis explained, slightly hesitant at Noct's silence. _"I'll be in touch with any new developments, if the hour doesn't grow too late."_

A soft click and the call was disconnected. Noct kept his phone to his ear a moment longer before finally lowering his arm.

And the theme of the day continued: feeling like worse shit by the hour.

Noct dropped his face into his hands, scrubbing at it in frustration. "Ugghhhh!" he exclaimed miserably.

He couldn't take it. The thought of what Prompto might be facing at that very moment—the haunting sounds of his dream—it was too much.

He shoved his chair back from his desk and stood abruptly, pacing a short distance away.

What could he do? There had to be something he could do. How could he honestly be expected to wait there all night, completely in the dark as to the details of the situation, unable to help in any way—it was torture. He couldn't do it.

Especially when the whole thing was his fault. He couldn't stop dwelling on that fact. And Prompto's tormented voice— _Don't think about it. Don't think about the dream_ _._ It terrified him to realize there might be an inkling of a possibility of reality behind it.

What could Prompto be going through? He knew he shouldn't let his thoughts venture too deeply into the subject—it would only distress him further—but he couldn't help it.

Maybe he was merely asleep in a cell? Maybe they'd even provided a cot and blanket for him. Yeah, and maybe they'd also offered him a three course meal for dinner, complete with drinks and a dessert menu, he thought derisively, grasping at his hair again in contempt.

He knew there was little to no chance they were treating Prompto anything less than harshly. He had a fleeting glimpse of his best friend, bruised and battered, hanging limply in cruel restraints as they threatened to hurt him again and again if he didn't answer their questions.

Their questions about the royal family and the crystal.

The thought of the whole scenario made Noctis reel, a sudden wave of nausea overwhelming him. It made him physically ill and ignited a dangerous anger deep inside him.

What the hell kind of right did the empire think they had, messing with an innocent citizen—an innocent _kid_ , no less—who had done nothing wrong and had absolutely nothing to do with politics?

It was infuriating. It was wrong on every level imaginable. _If they hurt him..._

Noctis fumed, his breathing harsh and ragged. He paced to and fro once more, giving himself a moment to check his anger.

There had to be something he could do...

He paced a moment longer, an idea that had been slowly formulating at the back of his mind pushed its way to the forefront.

He knew he shouldn't even think about it. He had already gotten himself into more than enough shit over the last couple days already. But he couldn't help it. He was too concerned for his best friend, and sitting around all night, stressing and wondering, not knowing—it was too unbearable to consider.

 _"The extraction team will be deploying shortly..."_

The words echoed briefly through his mind. A fresh unit of kingsglaives would be heading to the rendezvous site shortly. They would be the ones getting Prompto out.

It was a long shot, Noct knew. But honestly, how much more trouble could he really get himself into at this point?


	9. Chapter 9

Noctis was steadily approaching the threshold between 'antsy' to 'full on distracted.' He hated waiting.

He had literally done nothing but pace the length of his bedroom for the last hour, hands alternating between fidgeting with his hair and grasping his waist, as he found it near impossible to sit still. He couldn't recall a previous time in his life that he'd ever felt so overwhelmingly anxious and fretful as he felt now. So...miserably worried.

Prompto. It was all he could think about. His mind kept heedlessly flickering through brief glimpses of tousled light locks, a faintly speckled face, an unfailing crooked grin, a gangly arm casually lifting in a cheerful greeting...

God, he wished Prompto was there with him now. He needed his calming presence. Prompto was the only one that could disperse the anxiety before it became too much. Prompto was the only one who knew how to offer a well-timed, down-playing comment, usually laced with a hint of easy laughter, that would immediately alleviate any distress.

But, no. Instead of Prompto being the cure for his worry—as he usually was—he was currently the cause of it instead. Well, the subject, rather. Noct knew that he, himself, was the cause. He was the only one to blame for this mess. It was his fault Prompto had left the city. It was his fault Prompto had been left alone and unprotected from the imperials. It was his fault Prompto was now...

Noct choked at the thought—an image of a bound and battered Prompto flitting across his mind. The sounds of Prompto's haunting voice from his dreams.

 _Stop it_ , Noct reprimanded himself. His breathing hitched. He was going to lose it if he wasn't careful. The last thing he needed right now was the nuisance of pointless tears. Or even worse, a panic attack. Which he was fully headed towards if he didn't rein his rampant thoughts in.

 _Gotta keep a level head. It's almost time to move._

 _"...They have reason to believe Prompto was indeed abducted by the transport and taken to a nearby imperial base..."_

 _"...The extraction team will be deploying shortly..."_

Ignis' words echoed through Noct's mind for the hundredth time, each recurrence more unsettling than the last.

He knew what he had to do...It was just the whole pulling it off part that was going to prove to be tricky.

He glanced at the time. 10:29 pm. He didn't have all the details...well, he actually had no details whatsoever, but there were a few things he could surmise. He knew the glaives deployed small units in increments through the night for covert missions. For a mission such as breaking into an imperial base and extracting a target, they'd use at least two or three units. One for the initial breach of the wall/clearing an indiscreet path inside. Likely another for information retrieval and tapping into security, if possible. And the last unit, the extraction unit, would be sent directly to where the target had been located and a rescue would ensue.

Noct knew the reason for fresh units wasn't due to fatigue from the late hour. No, it was due to fatigue caused by the use of magic. And any covert mission would undoubtedly call for quite a bit of warping and phasing. And he knew from experience how draining that could be. He wasn't certain if his own personal direct link to the crystal made it more or less draining than the glaives' borrowed magic (he suspected less), but either way, he knew how exhausted one became after merely three or four consecutive warps.

 _"...The extraction team will be deploying shortly..."_

Noct glanced at the time again. 10:30 pm. He took a deep breath. He could do this. Prompto was his responsibility. He had to make absolutely sure this 'extraction team' wouldn't be screwing anything up.

First thing was first, however: inconspicuously escaping his room, and making his way to the glaive's adjacent building in the citadel complex.

He quickly changed into as close an outfit as he could match to the crownsgaurd uniform—he had similar black pants and boots. And he had to scour for a minute to find a longer fitted overcoat, but he found one at the back of his closet. It was a little on the dressy side, but the offset brushed nickel buttons were a fairly close match.

He didn't have any helmet options, but thinking quickly, he made his way to the bathroom and wet a comb, brushing his bangs back and out of his face. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he realized that was probably a better disguise than any helmet would ever be. He wondered if Prompto would even recognize him with his hair combed back.

 _Prompto._

He found himself at his bedroom door, his hand hesitating to reach for the handle. He wasn't certain if a crownsguard would be stationed outside or not. He figured the whole 'prisoner in his own home' thing from earlier had blown over by now, but he couldn't be certain. And if there was someone there, they would probably immediately report to Ignis or security that he had left his room. Since he apparently had no business going anywhere right now, what with how he was supposed to be studying and all.

Noctis took a beat to scoff at the thought of studying at the moment.

Turning away from the door, he figured he'd better play it safe by pulling the balcony stint again.

Passing his bed, he paused for a moment. The whole 'pillows under the comforter' thing was very cliche and amateur, but he figured Ignis would likely only glance in his room once at some point during the night, and a still lump under the covers would probably be enough to assuage any concerns.

He quickly aligned a couple pillows, throwing the covers over them. Then he switched off the bedroom light. It was convincing enough in the dark, he decided.

He had to move quick. Creeping to the balcony door, he soundlessly peered outside...Yep, his suspicions were correct, he realized with a flush of indignation. There was a guard posted outside his balcony door. How long had he been there? he wondered.

He clenched his teeth at the intrusiveness. And the obvious distrust clearly directed at him. Well, was it fair to say they distrusted him? Or did they just know him all too well? Noct almost smirked.

This shouldn't be too hard.

His earlier newfound sense of invincibility was empowering. He was actually excited to put it to use again. He crept to the far end of the wall of windows, as far from the balcony door as his sizable bedroom allowed.

Facing the glass, he stepped forward...and phased smoothly and silently to the other side. He dropped to a crouch, and in the same fluid motion hopped cat-like over the rail.

The cool night air soared past him as he fell. Ah, if he ever had to define what true freedom felt like, it was the rush of the night flying by him at that very moment.

He was free. Free to go find Prompto. And he would have bet his future claim to the throne of Lucis that that guard hadn't noticed jack squat.

He initiated a warp further down and caught himself briefly, his dangling black form invisible in the night.

One more warp and he dropped lightly down to solid ground.

Now, this part might not be quite as easy as phasing through walls and windows, but Noct was quite confident he could reach the glaives' quarters without too much trouble.

Keep to the shadows as much as possible, avoid encounters of any sort, act like you know exactly where you're going and what you're doing. No one gives a second glance to a lone worker just doing his job through the citadel. He had no clue what his "job" might be, but he knew there were quite a few night workers bustling here and there on any given night. Since anyone on citadel grounds had already passed through all required security screenings, suspicions would be low. And he was certain any live security footage was not being closely monitored at the moment. Not with a glaives operation underway. He was sure most security personnel would be closely listening to the communications feed, since an official glaives deployment was fairly rare and "exciting."

Yeah, maybe exciting when it wasn't _your_ best friend inside imperial walls, Noct thought with a derisive frown.

He strolled as quickly as he could through the grounds, occasionally stopping briefly to pause inconspicuously behind a corner, looming until the coast was clear. No one would have ever suspected the overprotected prince to be freely roaming the complex at close to eleven at night. And no one looked at him twice. Not that he encountered many others, and not that he gave any of them much of a chance. He moved quickly and determinedly, keeping his gaze down.

The glaives' quarters consisted of a large, vastly windowed building in the same architectural style as the citadel, though consisting of only four or so stories. It was surrounded by extensive training grounds and large spans of grass. Noct had a decent view of the area from his bedroom balcony, but it had been a while since he and Gladio had used the outdoor grounds for his own training.

He continued navigating the more shadowy stretches of ground as he approached the complex, noting the crownsguard posted at the large front entrance. He strolled past casually, as if he was simply a recruit minding his own business, and walked around the vast building, searching for an authorized personnel only entrance. Sure enough, around the corner, a large wrought iron door inset in a larger wrought iron fence, offered an ID scanner for access.

Noct approached the gate and hesitated briefly at the door, as if producing his own ID, before phasing through it. He knew it wouldn't be hard for them to spot the move on security footage when they noticed his disappearance in the morning. But he also determined it was going to be one of the least of his offenses, if he managed to pull off the rest of what he was planning that night.

He knew it would be easy to navigate the rest of the glaives' grounds now that he was inside. The lower level was lined with glass doors and windows, and Noct could make out the faint outline of workout equipment inside. He approached one of the doors, not bothering to check if it was actually locked or not, and phased through.

It was his new favorite use of his powers. He knew he was going to catch some serious hell for further abusing them in that way; especially after Ignis had very specifically told him to never do it again earlier. But the feeling of invincibility had him hooked. He could sneak anywhere! He could just picture the icy look of seemingly stoic calmness (that actually concealed a well-veiled rage) that would overcome Ignis' face upon viewing the security footage in the morning. Ignis was going to kill him. But really, he'd only phased through glass and a barred gate. It's not like he couldn't see through to the other side like when he had phased through the solid wall. He would try pointing that out when Ignis got ahold of him next. But he knew he was still dead.

The main lights were all off in the large exercise level, but the hallways were dimly lit, and Noct headed towards them, knowing where there was workout gear, there was bound to be locker rooms nearby. And he needed to find one.

He passed a sauna, a room filled with several spas and lined with showers, and—ah, there it was, the locker room.

As he suspected, there weren't many lockers that actually had locks on the doors. Noct knew the glaives were few in number and likely to be quite trusting of one another. Which made his pillaging all the more easy.

There was a large wheeled bin along the back wall filled with multiple discarded vests and jackets to be laundered, and several of the lockers had many of the same garments freshly cleaned and pressed. They all looked too big, and Noct figured he'd probably look more convincing in the jacket he was already wearing. The fit was impeccable (Or so Noct remembered Ignis saying so when he had been fitted for it last spring).

Noct walked the length of the room, skimming through the lockers as quickly and thoroughly as he could without making a mess. He needed gloves, gauntlets and a helmet. All of which were easily found and borrowed (okay, stolen, but he fully planned to give them back once Prompto was found).

He cinched the straps of his newly acquired gauntlets and pulled the helmet on, leaving the visor up for now. He knew most, if not all of the glaives were from outside the crown city and there was a good chance they wouldn't recognize him with or without the helmet—especially with his bangs combed back. But the helmet would help, and plus, he'd need it for his cover story.

He took a deep breath. It was just about time for some serious lying. He needed to take a beat and try to calm his frazzled nerves and thumping heart a fraction. He had to be smart. He had to be smooth. He had to be convincing. _Just keep it together, Noct. You can do this._

 _For Prompto._

His stomach lurched slightly and he forced himself to push any thoughts of his best friend to the back of his mind for now. He wouldn't be able to present a composed facade otherwise.

He glanced at the clock high on the wall. 10:42 pm. _Please, please, please tell me they haven't left yet._

He hurried out of the room and followed the hallway around a couple bends till it led to a broad set of stairs.

 _Please tell me they haven't left_ , he prayed again.

He took them two at a time, hoping his racing heart would stop trying to escape his chest for two seconds—and emerged in a large lounge-like room. Multiple seating areas took up the bulk of the space, while several tv's lined the walls. A foosball and billiards table sat quiet on the far end.

Noct scanned the room in an instant—and his barreling heart leapt into his throat when he spotted three figures across the way. Three glaives. In uniform. Leaning against the back of the couch and lounging on the chairs' arms. Clearly waiting for something.

Their deployment call. Noct was sure of it.

 _They're still here! Thank the gods_.

Noct paused for a fraction of a beat to attempt to collect himself once more.

 _Calm down, dammit. No one's going to suspect a thing. You're a good liar. You're an excellent liar..._

 _...The only reason Ignis and Gladio catch you in every single lie you tell them is because they know you better than their own mothers know them. But they're not here. You've got this._

Mentally prepared or not, he found himself quickly approaching the trio. Back straight, he walked with purpose. He was still a prince, regardless of whether or not he was downplaying that fact right now. He wasn't about to let himself appear nervous or intimidated.

The three continued in their easy conversing until Noct drew up beside the couch. It still took them a moment to take notice of him—which, honestly, irked him a tiny bit.

"Can we help you, kid?" the girl asked, giving him a brief but complete glance-over. The other two hardly afforded him that.

"Uh, yeah," Noct said, willing himself to not take offense at their disinterest in him. Normally he would be pleased at not being overly scrutinized as the prince, but he needed these glaives to take him seriously. "Are you the last team of glaives awaiting deployment tonight?"

The girl straightened slightly. "What makes you think we're getting deployed?"

Right, it wouldn't be common knowledge, would it?

"Look, I wasn't given much notice, so I honestly don't really know what's going on," Noct explained, his coolness and quick thinking surprising himself. "But I was told to report here to find the last unit of glaives awaiting deployment tonight."

"Yeah?" It was the bigger dude that had chimed in now.

"I just finished basic for the crownsgaurd a couple months ago, and apparently my tests showed 'promising aptitude for magic usage,'" Okay, so it was almost a little scary to Noct how smoothly the lies parted from his lips, "so the Marshal recommended me to Commander Drautos. I was just contacted by a coordinator about a half hour ago saying they'd like me to do a 'tag along' of sorts to the rendezvous site tonight. And, you know, observe an actual deployment. Get a feel for what the glaives' job entails."

He paused, hoping he hadn't gone overboard with his story. "It's sounding like they're pretty serious about bringing me on."

"No kidding?" the big dude said, grinning. Clearly he was a friendly type that harbored little to no suspicions. Not that he had any reason to, but Noct still felt a small rush of gratitude. "That's awesome. We've been a little desperate for new recruits since Pelna and Sonitus have been out on a long-term assignment, and Tredd's been out for disciplinary reasons the last month. What's your name, kid?"

"No—" he barely caught himself. "—x." _Careful, idiot_.

"Heh, Nyx and Knox," the big guy chuckled, glancing at his companion.

"Cute," the girl said flatly. Noct could tell she wasn't exactly the friendly type, but she didn't seem all-out mean, either. She pretty much fit the profile of exactly what he imagined a woman glaive to be like—overly-compensating tough exterior and all. He didn't mind. She seemed cool.

The other dude, the not-quite-as-big dude, finally seemed to take a mild interest in Noct. Nyx, Noct gathered. "Where you from, kid?"

In his mind, Noct instantly claimed ownership of Prompto's house downtown. "Inner city," he replied.

"You grew up in the crown city?" The big guy seemed surprised. "What made you want to join the crownsg—"

"Guys, it's time," the girl said, fluidly drawing to her feet as she checked the small screen on her wrist. "Van's out front."

The other two were instantly on their feet as well.

 _Wow, I barely made it in time_ , Noct realized with an exhale of gratitude.

"Sah-weet, it's go time!" Big guy exclaimed, punching the air and giving Nyx an excited shake. It earned him a mild, though Noct suspected fond, eyeroll from the girl.

Noct couldn't help feeling a touch of the hype as well. He'd always thought the idea of being a glaive would be so badass. Under any other circumstance, he'd be all over this...if there wasn't so much on the line.

He knew he was likely digging himself into a shit hole he may never completely crawl his way out of. He was really going to be in _that_ much trouble. There was no way around it. But he couldn't think about that now. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered tonight was finding Prompto. And bringing him home. And he wasn't about to trust the enormity of that to three strangers, glaives or not.

He didn't even hesitate as he dropped in line behind the other three.

The lounge was actually an expansive balcony with one side overlooking the large foyer and front entrance. He followed the big guy down one of the double staircases, across the marble, and out the glass doors. He didn't glance back.

They clambered into the van, Noct next to the big guy, while the other two took the bench lining the opposite wall.

He was actually doing this, there was no turning back now. His heart felt like it had taken up residence in his throat for the last half hour, and he tried to swallow it.

He'd be stupid to say he wasn't a little scared. Scared of Prompto's situation ( _Is he okay? God, please be okay, Prompto. I'll never forgive you if you're not. I'll never forgive_ myself _if you're not._ He couldn't even think about it). Scared at the thought of infiltrating an imperial base ( _This wouldn't be training anymore. This would be the real deal. Can I really handle myself?_ ). Scared of Ignis finding his bed empty before morning ( _He...definitely doesn't deserve that. But there's really nothing for it right now._ ). Scared of the look on Gladio's face when he finds out about this latest escapade. Oh man, was that going to be scary.

He couldn't let it get to him now though. Had to play it as cool as possible.

Big Guy must have noticed his bouncing leg. "Nervous?" he asked. It was dark, but Noct was pretty sure he was offering him a reassuring grin. He seemed like a nice dude.

When Noct didn't reply, Big Guy went on. "No need to be. Sorry to tell you, but there's little to no action at the rendezvous sites. Mostly just officers hanging around vehicles, managing communications."

Noct nodded slowly. "So," he ventured, "what exactly is the mission tonight? I mean, I know the details are usually kept pretty hush-hush, but how much do they actually share with you guys?"

"Usually the key points," Big Guy replied. "Not more than we need to know."

Noct nodded, hoping he'd go on.

"Tonight's a rescue mission of sorts," Big Guy continued. "One of the higher ups tangled with some imperials outside of the city, from the sound of it."

"Higher ups?" Noct asked.

"One of the higher ranking officials, or one of their family members, I'm guessing," Big Guy went on, "from how quick they were able to pull strings to get the glaives involved."

"Sounds like more trouble with the prince, to me," Tough Girl said, deciding to join the conversation, though she kept a hint of boredom in her voice.

"Yeah, what's been going on in the citadel?" Big Guy asked, figuring "Knox" had already been assigned duty inside. "I've heard rumors from the prince running away, to the prince being kidnapped..." he paused, a sudden hint of dread entering his voice. "Dudes. You don't think it's the _prince_ we're rescuing tonight, do you?" he asked, the thought of such a paramount responsibility causing his voice to falter.

"Doesn't matter if it is," Tough Girl replied firmly. "We do our job the same, regardless of who it is. Accomplish the mission or die trying. No exceptions."

Noct's brow creased. "I...don't think the king would agree with that...the whole 'die trying' bit."

"That's just Crowe's personal philosophy." Nyx finally decided to join the discussion. "But she's not far off. We don't allow failure as an option in our unit. We work together, watch each other's backs...They don't push that as much in crownsgaurd basics, but you'll pick it up quick when training with the glaives..." He trailed off, leaving Noct pondering.

"And you can relax, Lib, it's not the prince," Nyx added after a moment.

Noct looked to him quickly.

"It's not? How do you know?" Big Guy, or "Lib" asked.

"I caught a glimpse of Amicitia hauling him inside the citadel earlier."

"Hauling?"

"Looked like he was unconscious."

"Yikes," Lib responded. "Was he injured?"

"I dunno, he may have just been sleeping. The kid's got a reputation for doing not much else, right?"

Noct shifted in his seat. Well, this was...uncomfortable. Being present and part of the conversation while simultaneously being talked about behind your back.

"But," Nyx was still talking, "Amicitia seemed...rather irate."

"Sounds like the kid's been a handful lately." Lib said. "I wonder what's been going on," he paused briefly. "What have they told the crownsgaurd?"

Noct realized Lib was addressing him with that last question. "Uhh," he replied, not quite knowing what to say. He decided he might as well go with it. "Yeah, the kid's apparently been a bit of an asshole lately." He knew he had been. He could certainly admit it. But it's not like he _meant_ for everything to go so wrong the last couple days. He really hated the position he was putting his advisors and all the citadel officials in with his antics lately. He really wasn't trying to screw them over. But Prompto trumped all that, so...they'd have to deal with it for a little while longer.

Crowe snorted. "'Kid?'" She smirked. "Hi kettle, meet pot."

Noct's eyes lingered on her for a moment, not getting her comment. He decided to ignore it and go on. "They've just upped security around him today, that's all I really know."

"For protection?" Lib asked, confused.

"I think...it's more..." Noct was trying to choose his words, "royalty's version of being grounded?"

Lib snorted. "Man, if there's one position I don't envy, it's his."

"Yeah," Noct didn't even have to keep his act up to agree wholeheartedly with that. He was grateful someone else could acknowledge the major suck factor of his position. And he now desperately hoped they'd change the subject.

"But man, did you guys see what he got for his eighteenth birthday?" Lib asked.

Noct could feel his ears start to burn slightly.

"That car alone would be enough to keep me around and in line, I don't care what anyone says," Lib said. Then added, "Bet he won't be driving it for a while. Poor kid."

 _They never really let me drive it anyway. And I never even asked for that car..._ Noct thought dejectedly. A car was not a replacement for freedom. Especially one you were hardly allowed to drive. But, he realized, Lib was probably very right. He'd likely never be driving that car again after they got ahold of him once more.

Crowe scoffed. "Poor kid?" She went on, "The spoiled prick has everything he could possibly want, decides it's not enough, gives the whole 'angsty teen rebel' thing a try, not even caring where the collateral damage might fall...And now look. We're here risking our lives to save someone whose life the prince also risked. While he sits in the citadel with a couple of guards outside his palatial bedroom."

Ouch. That hit Noct in the gut like a punch.

He stared at the floor, grateful for the dark. He couldn't keep the shame from flushing entirely across his face.

"We don't...know any of that for sure..." Lib said.

Noct wasn't sure why Lib felt the need to provide a small comment of defense for the prince, but Noct couldn't help feeling a tiny sliver of gratitude weasel its way amongst the shame. He had the feeling Lib would have done that for anyone though. He was definitely a nice guy.

"Oh please," Crowe retorted. "I'm right on the mark and you know it."

Noct still couldn't bring his gaze to look at any of them. He felt like the shame and embarrassment emanating off him might be palpable. He really hoped they didn't pick up on it.

Crowe sighed. Perhaps she took Noct's silence as a sign he was offended by her rant against the boy he was supposedly sworn to protect. The heat dissipating from her voice, she added, "But, he is just a kid, so I dunno...It's whatever..."

After a long moment of silence, Lib decided to finally change the subject. "What time are we supposed to be arriving?" Noct was beyond grateful.

"About 0100 hours," Nyx responded.

"What time is it now?"

"23:13."

Noct leaned back, a tinge of heat still warming his ears. This was going to be a long drive.

But Prompto was waiting at the end of it. That's all that mattered.

* * *

 **A/N: So, this chapter was a very long time in the making, lol. *Facepalm* I'm so sorry to any of you who may have been enjoying this fic, for my temporary abandonment! The baby I was pregnant with is now nearing 10 months, and is finally becoming slightly more independent. So, I'm very pleased to be back, and I assure you this fic will be concluded soon. There's no stopping me now!**

 **To any new readers that stumbled upon this story: Hi, and thanks so much for reading! Please note that everything up to this point was written last spring, before Prompto's DLC was released. As such, this will have slight elements of AU, since Prompto's backstory and relationship with Verstael was much more ambiguous back then.**

 **To any old readers that may have happened to return: Thank you for coming back! I am so very grateful for any and all feedback I've received in the past. I really can't thank you enough for taking the time.**

 **Last thing, if any of you are hoping to see anything in particular occur in the last few chapters (particularly any specific interactions you're hoping to see between the characters, because that's my favorite thing ever to write), pleeeease let me know, as I'd love to include what I can. Myself, I'm pretty excited for Noct to finally have to face Gladio again, and I can't wait to write that conversation. Noct is so in for it. D: Oh, and also the reunion with Prompto, but that goes without saying.**


	10. Chapter 10

Sure enough, and as Noct suspected, the drive felt long. Teetering between 'unbearably long' and _oh my gosh, I seriously think I might die in here_ long.

With nothing to look at apart from the endless, black nothingness out the back window, Noct contented himself as much as he could by leaning back and resting his eyes. Or "resting," really. To say any part of him was truly restful at that moment was a stretch.

He was growing so jittery it was literally taking as much self-control as he could muster to keep the annoying, nervous bounce from claiming its usual command over his leg.

He was at least grateful for the helmet. He didn't know if he could manage his agitated twitching and keep his hands free of any anxious hair-fidgeting at the same time without it.

He was still really trying to play it cool...Just the lowly prospective recruit, on his way to the rendezvous site to mingle awkwardly amongst the officers, unobtrusively attempting to listen in on a legitimate glaives' mission. As Lib said, there would be no action, nothing to worry about.

If only that was really the case.

Once they reached the rendezvous site, Noct would be facing nothing but action for the remainder of the night. All of it unknown. With Prompto's welfare hanging in the balance.

He had reason to be nervous. He had reason to be very nervous. But he was still determined not to show it, despite what his parched throat and bounding pulse might say about it.

The other three glaives he'd stowed away with conversed calmly and quietly at intervals throughout the drive. If they had any apprehensions about their upcoming mission, they could have easily fooled Noct.

Lib attempted to engage Noct in a casual exchange several times, and while Noct was really all for politely humoring the guy, he was too afraid the conversation might once again be drawn to further speculation on the prince and his latest misdeeds. He really didn't want to touch that topic again with a ten foot pole.

So, he sat in disquieted silence the majority of the ride, trying not to get too caught up in his own mind. Which proved a challenge.

Time and again, his thoughts inevitably drifted to his best friend. What was going on with Prompto? Was he okay? Did he have any idea how insanely out of his mind with worry Noct had steadily been going all day? Did he have any hope for a rescue? Was he hurt? Was he scared? Did he blame Noct for this mess? Would Noct find him tonight? Would everything go according to the glaives' plans?

Noct exhaled a shaky breath and forced his thoughts to move elsewhere...Where they were immediately drawn to Ignis and Gladio, despite how hard he tried to keep them from going there.

Gladio would be at the rendezvous site. That thought alone was nearly enough to make Noct jump up and demand the driver turn the van around on the spot and head straight back where they came from.

Gladio was going to...No, Noct couldn't let himself think about what Gladio might do or say when Noct encountered him next. And he couldn't hold back the subtle shudder that suddenly ran through him. Gladio would have to be avoided at all costs. That went without saying.

And while Gladio brought an immediate jolt of fear anytime Noct allowed his thoughts to venture near the big man, Ignis...well, Noct found himself hating thinking about Ignis. The ensuing guilt stung too much; it filled him with bitter self-reproach.

He hated the situation he had put Gladio in the last couple days (despite how badly he knew he was going to catch it from him), and even more so, he _hated_ the position he'd put Ignis in.

He wasn't certain if Ignis had decided to help with communications at the rendezvous site itself (there was a good chance he had, considering the personal interest he had in Prompto, as well), or if he would have elected to remain at the citadel. Surprisingly, Noct was hoping for the former. If Ignis was on-site, that would mean he wouldn't be the one to find Noctis' bed empty in the morning. And boy, would Noct have preferred to spare him from that scenario for the second time that week.

Ugh, the thought of cool, collected Iggy struggling vainly to conceal yet another full-blown panic brought on by his heedless charge, who claimed to also be one of his closest friends, made Noct's gut clench.

Unfailingly loyal Iggy. Unerringly patient, gracious and caring...

...And so undeserving of Noct's shit. Noct knew it was indeed a shit move he was pulling on Ignis. And he hated it and himself for it.

But, he thought with a resigned sigh, there would be plenty of time for apologies later. Once Prompto was home safe and sound.

Although, Noct realized, if Ignis _was_ on-site, that meant another pair of sharp eyes to avoid. So much avoiding. Noct prayed he could pull it off.

His thoughts persisted in mirroring the never-ending gloom glimpsed through the window. Continuous darkness filled with countless uncertainties.

Ah, he wished he could just get this all over with already.

As if in answer to his plea, the van finally began to slow. Noct lifted his head, straightening as he noticed the others perk up as well.

"Finally," Crowe said under her breath, clearly having been rearing to go for the last two plus hours.

Nyx and Lib shifted their weight forward, not caring to hide their apparent anxiousness either.

Noct could feel the tense excitement bouncing between the three of them. He could tell it was a familiar feeling to them. A feeling they seemed to relish in.

Crowe may have been complaining about having to put their lives on the line earlier, but Noct was beginning to suspect they lived for that kind of thing. The official missions. And he couldn't blame them. The endless adrenaline and overall badassery that went along with being a glaive was something Noct could see himself being continuously drawn to as well.

He would have felt a prickle of jealousy upon seeing the three lean for the door, all confidence and grit, had he not been planning on joining them, himself...

"This is us, kid," Nyx said, donning his helmet as the van drew to a halt.

"Enjoy listening in," Lib said, pulling his helmet on as well. "You'll be hearing my dulcet tones announce, 'The target is secure,' over the comms in no time."

Crowe snorted as she prodded Lib forward. "'Kay, 'Dulcet,' let's go."

"Wish us luck," Lib added as they pushed the back door open.

"Good lu—" Noct began, but was quickly cut off by Crowe sweeping past him.

"Don't need it," she said with a dismissive wave, hopping out in quick succession. "Later, kid."

He watched them climb out into the dark and waited a few beats before following suit.

They appeared to be in a wooded area a little ways off the road—he could make out the dim outline of surrounding trees.

Noct wasn't surprised by the lack of bright lighting. This was a covert mission on the outskirts of an imperial base, after all. The only subtle lighting illuminating the group came from the various computer stations set up at the rear of the vehicles.

Though his heart rate had already shifted into high gear since exiting the van, Noct was pleased by the amount of darkness. Chances were looking good he could slip away without anyone ever noticing him.

He didn't even allow himself to scan the silhouettes of the group as he made an immediate and soundless beeline towards the trees. He was afraid whatever courage he had been clinging to would immediately scatter if he happened to catch a glimpse of Gladio.

And he didn't even want to think what would happen if Gladio happened to lay eyes on him. If he had even the faintest _hint_ of suspicion...

 _Please don't let Gladio notice me,_ Noct silently prayed. _...Or Cor...Or Drautos...Or, come to think of it, Ignis, if he's here...You know, maybe just don't let_ anyone _notice me, please?_

Noct pressed his back against a thick trunk, his breath quickly escaping him. He'd made it away from the group, the night was providing a perfect shroud, and he was certain his brief presence had gone unnoticed.

All he needed to do now was wait and see which direction the glaives were headed.

 _Hang in there, Prompto, I'm coming._

He figured they'd have a final hasty briefing before setting off, and he thought he could make out the three of them huddled around one of the comm stations. And that must have been Drautos at the head. He watched the exchange of information and orders and saw their tight nods. They were ready to go... _Any minute now..._

Finally, the three figures broke away at a brisk pace, quickly melding into the night. Noct immediately pushed off in their direction, hastening his pace as swiftly and quietly as possible. It was imperative to stay a safe distance behind, while not letting them get too far ahead, either...

Once they were away from the rendezvous site, it was near impossible for Noct to keep track of the glaives' streaking shadows through the night-cloaked trees. Fortunately for him, as a fellow magic-user, the subtle ribbons of fleeting warp trails were easy to recognize. The glaives initiated warps (as far as the trees allowed) at fairly constant and well-paced intervals, hoping to close the remaining distance to the imperial base as quickly as they could. And their trailing streams of soft blue light acted as perfect route-markers.

Fully intending to keep up, Noct had no choice but to utilize his warping abilities as well. He only hoped he was lagging far enough behind that his own warp trails wouldn't be noticed. It was risky, but he couldn't chance losing them. He didn't come all this way to end up lost in the woods, with no way of finding the base on his own.

Their running seemed to go on and on. Sure, Noct could understand the rendezvous site needed to be a safe distance away from the base and all, but this almost seemed excessive. Couldn't they have at least taken chocobos or something? Too hard to transfer, he supposed. And too loud for a covert mission. Still, their running must have exceeded a mile or two by now. Surely they were getting close.

In answer to his thoughts, a bright light suddenly winked into view up ahead, flickering between the dense trees.

Finally! They were nearly there. The glaives were smart in pacing their warps so as to not cause unnecessary over-exertion, for which Noct was grateful. But with the constant thump of adrenaline coursing through him, Noct doubted it would be possible for him to feel winded, regardless. He felt alive. Sure—scared, reckless, brash and uncertain...but alive. And determined.

He was doing this. He was going to reclaim his best friend. His best friend whom the empire had absolutely no right in stealing from him.

A tinge of anger flared up, heating the adrenaline racing through his bloodstream.

 _I'm almost there, Prompto. Hold on._

Just a little bit farther.

They closed the remaining distance quickly, and Noct hung back as the glaives approached the high back wall of the imperial compound, their crouched movements fluid and soundless.

Noct knew they had to be precise with their point of entry into the base. He was certain an earlier unit of glaives had already cleared a path for the extraction team. And that unit was likely still inside the walls, lurking in the shadows, keeping the extraction team's path clear of any opposition.

Noct watched as Nyx silently approached the wall. He hardly hesitated before casting his weapon and reappearing at the top, quickly vanishing from view as he crossed the walkway and dropped inside the base.

Considering Nyx's hasty confidence, Noct gathered that yet another earlier unit of glaives must have already tapped into the base's security to an extent. That was usually the protocol for covert extraction or retrieval missions. One team handled the tech side of security, another dealt with the physical side of it, and the extraction unit should be left with relatively smooth and straight-forward circumstances to quickly achieve the objective. In this case, retrieve the target—Prompto.

Lib was next up and over the wall, followed closely by Crowe.

Noct wasn't sure to what extent the glaives had managed to tap into the base's security. He knew the objective varied with each individual mission, and he was aware a few of the glaives had some very impressive and vital hacking skills in that regard. He knew surveillance of the path laid out for the extraction team would be safe from enemy eyes. But Noct wondered if any video footage was being fed back to the rendezvous site. He doubted it—comm management usually only relied on ear pieces and mics in the glaives' wristbands. But, video footage could potentially be very problematic.

Noct couldn't help imagining Gladio, watching the screened security footage back at the rendezvous site, suddenly noticing a fourth and unauthorized "glaive" in unit C. With the exact same slight build as the prince...

Noct was fairly certain the mission would likely be aborted immediately.

 _Oh god, please don't let them have access to video footage of this._

Once Noct was convinced the coast was clear, he made his break from the trees, approaching the wall quickly and low, as he had seen the others do. Without pausing to ask himself one final time if he was really sure of what he was doing, Noct flung his weapon, and reappeared atop the enemy lines.

He crossed the walkway and peered down the other side of the wall. If the glaives had a very specific path to follow, and knew where they were going, it would be crucial not to lose sight of them completely.

He quickly scanned the vast amount of storage crates and equipment littering the lot, hoping to catch sight of one of the three—

Oh phew, there was Crowe. He barely caught a glimpse of her dark form, crouched along the skirts of a pool of flood-light, before she disappeared behind a crate, following the other two towards the facility.

There didn't seem to be any sign of anyone else out there, imperial or otherwise. Whether that was the earlier unit's doing or not, Noct supposed there probably wasn't much need for overly tight Imperial security inside their own walls at two o'clock in the morning.

He warped down quickly, aiming to follow Crowe's path towards the facility as closely as possible. He couldn't let them get too far ahead—they seemed to know exactly where Prompto was being held, and that kind of invaluable intel would save Noctis a whole lot of trou—

A knife suddenly slammed into the crate behind Noctis, a mere half a foot from his head. He nearly jumped out of his skin, failing to contain the shout of alarm that escaped him, so caught off guard as he was.

A dark figure instantly materialized before him, a firm hand pressing solidly over his mouth, effectively cutting off his exclamation of surprise almost as quickly as it left his lips.

The faint blue streak of a warp trail quickly faded behind the figure, and Noct felt himself sag a fraction against the hands holding him, realizing with relief that his assailer was not actually an enemy.

Noct sucked in a breath as his mouth was released, the unyielding hands gripping his collar fast and drawing him near.

"Kid," Crowe said in a harsh whisper, clearly struggling to keep her voice down, "you have three seconds to tell me what in the almighty _hell_ you're doing here...?!"

Noct was reeling. How had she seen him?! He had been so cautious...Kept such a careful distance...! His mouth opened and closed a couple times, but he had nothing to offer apart from a wide-eyed stare.

"How—Did you—?" Crowe was obviously fumbling for words as well. "Was that a _warp streak_ I saw?! Did you—did you _warp_ down from the wall? How—how did—"

Crowe's eyes suddenly widened, her own bewilderment closely mirroring Noct's. She released him, instantly breaking away as she gripped her visor and paced a length off.

"Oh, God...Oh, God..."

She whipped back towards Noct, a subtle sheen of terror glistening in her eyes, though her voice remained surprisingly steady. "Kid...you have two seconds to tell me _you're not who I think you are..._ "

Noct's lips formed a tight line as he held her gaze, forcing himself to straighten to his full (if somewhat meager) height. There was no point in affirming or refuting her suspicions. She already knew.

Crowe was quickly able to put together what Noct's silence meant. She let out an exhale of shock and disgust, immediately drawing away again as a string of expletives left her.

She paced to and fro briefly, clutching vainly at her helmet as she tried to figure out what the hell to do.

"Wha—" Words seemed to evade her, "How—What do you think you're _doing_ here?" she finally settled on asking, as she turned to glare at him once more. A glare that was equal parts anger and fear now.

Noct wasn't sure if he should jump right to offering a meaningless apology or launch immediately into a summarized explanation, still earnestly attempting to compose himself as he was. Yeah, he knew eventually revealing himself to the glaives was inevitable. They were both pursuing the same goal, after all. He was just hoping to hold off on it as long as humanly possible—till they were on the verge of rescuing Prompto.

"Your Highness," Crowe said, trying to keep as much vehemence out of her voice as she could. "What," she stepped up to him, "are you doing here?"

Noctis met her gaze squarely, finally deciding to keep any hint of apologies at bay. This wasn't the time for that.

He finally found his voice. "Look," he said, willing his hesitance to be replaced by something that might sound close to competence or authority. Anything but sounding like the impetuous fool he knew he appeared. "I'm just here to find my friend."

Crowe's glare didn't even flicker.

Noct knew there wasn't any response he could offer that would abate her anger, but he found himself going on, regardless. "It's my fault he's here. It's my fault he crossed paths with the imperials. It's my fault he left the damn city in the first place..."

Crowe just stared, and Noct wondered if it was taking all her restraint not to get physical with him again.

"Wha—" She was clearly still dumbfounded, trying to make sense of the absurdity. "So—That somehow justifies this? A completely unauthorized infiltration of an official kingsglaive mission? Inside an _imperial base?_ " She was definitely struggling to keep her voice down now. "What were you—Do you have any idea—"

Noct cut in. "I just had to make sure nothing goes wrong tonight." He felt stupid even as he said it.

"Nothing goes— _wrong?_ " Crowe scoffed. "I'd say we're about four warps past stasis of something 'going wrong.' What were you _thinking?_ "

Noct was grateful for the visor hiding his burning cheeks. This was starting to sound awfully familiar, and he'd had enough. Prompto was here and waiting for him, and he wasn't about to stand there and listen to a full-blown Gladio lecture from Not Gladio.

Noct unclenched his jaw, deciding this entire conversation was a waste of time. He moved to brush past Crowe, but barely made it half a step before she seized him under the arm, whirling him about.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," she said, ushering him back the way he'd come.

Noct jerked free, his irritation spiking. He may have been way out of line that night, and yeah, Crowe's anger might have been justified. But he was still the prince, and there was still certain conduct he didn't take well to. And being physically coerced by essentially a stranger was something he would not allow.

Crowe could tell the prince was bothered by her pushiness. She also didn't give a rat's ass. The only thing that mattered was getting the prince to safety immediately, his pride and obstinacy be damned.

She reached for him again and found herself grasping at a faint blue outline of the prince framing nothing but air. He'd phased an arm's length away.

She tried to refrain from grinding her teeth. "Your Highness, I was going to suggest the other two continue the mission while I escort you out of here, but if you're going to be difficult, I'll have to request their assistance, and the mission will likely have to be aborted."

Noct's lungs picked up their pace as panic began to settle in. This was not going remotely how he had hoped. It had never even crossed his mind that the possibility of his premature discovery might jeopardize the entire rescue.

"Look," he said through sharp breaths, "Throw out whatever threats you will, but I am not leaving here without Prompto." He couldn't stress those words enough as their eyes remained locked in a war of wills.

"I will phase and warp away as much as I have to to keep looking for him," he explained. "I will wake up this entire base and offer my own goddamned self up to the empire as a trade, if it comes to that. But there is no way in hell I'm leaving here without him."

Crowe continued to hold his fervent eyes. He was serious. If she tried to physically force him out of there, all hell might break loose.

Ugh, he was impossibly stubborn, and thought himself so far above any rule or protocol that ever existed, it was infuriating. But she couldn't help wonder if her own behavior might be capable of nearing such desperation if Libertus or Nyx were ever the ones being held prisoner inside an imperial facility.

Her gaze softened almost unnoticeably. Loyal conviction was one thing she always understood through and through.

She sighed, resigning herself to a whole shitton of trouble, and said, "Okay, 'Knox,' if you're really going to be that foolishly bullheaded, then I guess I have no choice but to treat this as a royal order."

Noct released the most relieved exhale of his life.

"But, I hope you have at least some inkling of just how screwed we're all going to be afterwards because of this."

 _Nope. Just me. The blame will stay with me, I'll see to it._

"And you better stay right with me, because I sure as hell am not letting anything happen to yo—"

She cut off, fingers immediately drawing to her ear. Then a tap at her wristband.

"Yes, I read you." A brief pause. "Sorry, something caught my eye, I had to backtrack briefly...Keep going, I'll be right behind you."

Another brief tap at her wristband.

Her eyes met the prince's once more. She held them a moment, words escaping her for the hundredth time that night. With a few slight shakes of her head—either resigning herself to the proverbial guillotine, or reluctantly half-admitting to herself she somewhat admired the prince's resolve—she gestured for him to follow her.

Noct did so without hesitation.

* * *

 **Of course Crowe would be on to you, duh, Noct.**

 **Thanks so much to those of you who actually came back to catch these latest installments! It was so nice seeing a few familiar faces, and I'm very grateful for your comments. I'm sorry updates continue to be few and far between, but the conclusion to this fic can't be too far away now. I'll get there. Just got to keep finding some meager time to squeeze in between parenting and being quite addicted to Persona 5 at the moment, lol.**


	11. Chapter 11

Noct trailed closely behind Crowe, half-crouched and treading quietly as they weaved through the maze of shipping crates and storage units littering their path towards the imperial facility.

The base consisted of several seemingly-separate facilities, and Noct couldn't rightly tell if they were connected or not. And as much as he didn't mind indulging Prompto in the occasional guessing game whenever the exuberant blond would launch midway into a story, leaving Noct scrambling to follow along—Guess Which Imperial Door Is Hiding Prompto was one game Noct was not keen on playing that night. Needless to say, he was beyond grateful for the glaives' intel. Thanks to the scouting unit earlier, they already knew where to find him.

Noct stayed close to Crowe, aiming to follow her lead with a certain exactness, while trying to avoid annoying her more than he already had. Their unexpected confrontation had been...rather awkward. He never would have bet he'd be spotted on their tail like that, let alone that she'd be able to derive his true identity as quickly as she had. He shouldn't have underestimated her perceptiveness.

He couldn't fault her for being as upset as she was. And he didn't blame her for making him feel stupid and embarrassed. He knew his unauthorized tagging along was never going to be well-received. And he knew she was right about the absurdity of his actions that night. But be that as it may, at least she hadn't insisted on dragging him out of there. At least she had agreed to lead him to Prompto.

He hoped she wasn't too worried about the repercussions of his continued unauthorized presence. He would make certain Drautos, his father, and the council knew of the glaives innocence.

And while he hadn't given it too much thought, he also hoped his own repercussions would be somewhere in the realm of bearable. He knew he'd have to face not only his father and Gladio after all was said and done, but a disciplinary hearing with the council would be unavoidable. But, what could they really do to him, in all honesty? He didn't have much freedom to lose—no particular privileges to be revoked that he was overly concerned about. Yeah, any free time spent hanging out with Prompto would be off the table for a while. That wouldn't be a surprise. He'd still see him at school, though. And he'd earn it back eventually. He imagined they'd likely suspend his training with Gladio for a bit, or at least forbid him from using his abilities for a while, with how blatantly he'd been abusing them. But if a temporary nix on training meant extra time for napping instead, he could hardly say he'd miss it all that much.

They'd just have to concede the fact that the prince might actually have the power to make decisions for himself now and again. Even if they, admittedly, weren't always the smartest. But, he had never intended to play the role of the helpless, subjugated prince forever.

He could feel the beginnings of an intricate knot forming in his stomach, the further he dwelt on any upcoming consequences, and he hastily pushed his thoughts aside and came back to the matter at hand.

Crowe had slowed to a stop and briefly lifted her arm, instructing him to pause as well. Noct wanted to ask what was up, but he knew she'd likely just silence him with a peeved shush, so he stayed quiet.

She sat there crouched motionless, staring ahead. Noct wondered if she may have mistakenly thought she heard something. He hadn't. The base was clearly all but dead at this hour of night. Not much of a need for—

Crowe suddenly blinked out of view, reappearing a warp's length ahead with her knife hilt-deep in the neck of an unsuspecting MT that had just rounded the corner.

Noct gaped after her. That...was very cool. He quickly made two mental notes: One, never mess with Crowe in the future; and two, ask Gladio to incorporate that move into their training regimen ASAP.

Quickly checking to make sure the coast was clear, Noct hastily caught up to her, trying not to appear overly impressed.

Rather than taking time to coax the blade free, Crowe dismissed it, hardly giving the felled trooper a glance before standing fluidly and motioning Noct behind her once more.

Noct watched as she readjusted her gauntlets. "Kill strike," she said matter-of-factly, cinching a strap. "Like regular warping, with an added dose of insta-death."

Noct half-stifled a snort. Was she being funny?

She met his surprised gaze. "I was anxious to learn it, too, the first time I saw it in action." She paused, smirking. "I'm not certain how qualified Amicitia is to be instructing warp techniques, but I'm sure that won't stop you from asking him. Just be prepared to explain where you saw it."

Noct's own smirk straightened a fraction. He wished she'd ease off the mind-reading a bit. Was he an open book or something? She did have him there, though. He wouldn't be able to bring up the move to Gladio without being questioned on where he'd seen it. And recounting tonight's exploit with the glaives to Gladio at any future date was going to be a bad idea no matter what. At least for several years. Maybe one day they'd actually be able to look back and share a laugh about it... Maybe? Noct highly doubted it, but he did know one thing: He wouldn't be doing much of any laughing ever again unless they got Prompto out of this imperial hell hole.

Apparently quite satisfied with her subtle reminder of how much shit Noct was in for, Crowe turned and led the way once more.

Finally exiting the seemingly endless labyrinth of imperial junk, they made their way to the facility entrance. Where they found the door propped open. With a spell flask. Not as advanced a technique as, say, a kill strike, Noct thought, but hey, it worked. Crowe pulled the door open, and Noct followed closely behind.

The lighting was dim due to the hour. The air smelled faintly metallic, and the building had a sense of sterility. Like a hospital. A very wrong hospital. Noct wasn't sure if the goosebumps that prickled his flesh were due to the chill draftiness or his instant aversion to being there. He clenched his teeth at the sudden thought of Prompto having to endure this creepy place all day and night against his will.

And another thing, Noct realized as Crowe led him around a corner and up a flight of stairs, periodically checking her wristband—this building didn't have the look or feel of a typical prison or holding cell area. It felt more like...a lab. And the second floor smelled more like it, too. Strange chemicals and disinfectants. Again, like a wrong hospital.

Why would they bring Prompto to a lab, Noct wondered, a thin layer of cold sweat breaking out along his hairline. The back of his neck tingled, and swallowing suddenly took an effort.

Nothing good ever happened in a lab...Not when a subject was involved...

His sudden nervousness was getting the better of him, and he felt strangely like the hallway might tip at any moment, sliding him out of this bad dream and back to reality.

But this wasn't a bad dream. He was actually really there—inside this eerie, foreign, completely off-putting imperial facility. And Prompto was, too. And all Noct had to do now was keep it together, find his best friend, and get them both the hell out of there.

They rounded a corner and there, halfway down the hall, were Nyx and Lib—Lib giving his comrade a leg up as he appeared to be fiddling with an HVAC grate near the ceiling.

Noct watched as Nyx dropped down, both of them quickly rushing down the hall towards Crowe and him.

Lib did a split-second double take upon laying eyes on Noct. "Kn-Knox?"

"The hell's _he_ doing here?!" Nyx demanded, pulling Crowe back around the corner, as Lib did the same with Noct.

Nyx pulled the group down to a crouch, his fierce eyes on Crowe. "The hell is this, Crowe?!"

"He, uh, apparently misunderstood that the 'tag along' invite only meant as far as the rendezvous site," Crowe said, pinning Noct with her blankest stare yet.

"... _What_...?" Lib asked, also pinning Noct with a stare that was clearly attempting to determine if Noct was mentally challenged, and how he had not picked up on it earlier.

Nyx was looking at him with a mix of confusion and disgust, and it was taking everything in Noct's power not to visibly shift under their gazes. He knew this part of the rescue plan was going to be embarrassing and uncomfortable, but that didn't help lessen the sudden hot flush behind his cheeks any.

Still staring at him, dumbfounded, Nyx was about to say something when he paused, his hand going to his ear piece instead, briefly listening to the comms. He brought up his wrist.

"Oh, it's that kid from earli—"

Crowe instantly laid a soft hand on Nyx's arm. Noct saw him lock eyes with her, and she merely offered the most subtle shake of her head in response.

Nyx trailed off, letting the sentence die unfinished at Crowe's unspoken prompting, though clearly not understanding why. His eyes shifted to Noct again, though now more quizzical than angry.

"I assume you just administered the sleeping spell?" Crowe asked, attempting to gloss over the awkward confusion and keep things rolling. Speed was always a priority with covert missions.

"...Yeah," Lib said, struggling to drag his studying eyes away from Noct. He was clearly trying to make sense of what the hell was going on, as well. "...It should have dissipated by now," he went on, finally bringing his attention to Crowe.

Dissipated? Noct wondered. Ah, it must have been a gaseous spell. Hence the reason they had dragged Crowe and him around the corner. They must have administered it through the duct system. He remembered learning how certain spells could be concocted in a gaseous form, but he had yet to actually learn how to craft any himself.

"We're not positive if anyone else was still in the room, given the hour," Nyx explained as they stood, quickly heading back where Noct and Crowe had first spotted them. "But, we suspect one of the assistants was still in there, working. No intel on the status of the target, but whether or not he was conscious a moment ago, he isn't now."

 _The target._

 _Prompto_.

Noct's heart thumped out a frantic rhythm so intently he could hear it pulsing in his ears. Prompto was just beyond that door. They were about to get him out of this hell hole and take him home.

"I don't know what in the Astrals' names you're doing here, kid," Nyx said, turning to address Noct briefly, as Lib knelt at the door, "but we don't have time for anymore bullshit right now, so stay out of the way."

Positioning himself in front of the entry keypad, Lib took a moment to look up at him. "Yeah, why would you throw away your chance of becoming a glaive like this...?"

Noct flinched inwardly. He was grateful to Crowe for choosing to keep his identity under wraps for a little while longer. It kept things slightly less complicated for the time being. But he still couldn't help feeling a little regretful for betraying the welcoming trust the guys had shown him earlier.

Noct didn't have a response, and Lib didn't wait for him to offer one. He'd already turned his attention back to the keypad, Crowe kneeling next to him, tapping at her wristwatch.

"The code," she said, holding her wrist up for Lib to see.

He punched in a series of numbers and hit enter.

The small screen briefly flickered red, the words " _Access denied_ " flashing across it.

"...What the?" Lib said, blinking at the unexpected sight.

"Libertus," Crowe snapped, shoving her wrist in his face, offering a clearer view of her screen. "This is not the time for mistakes!"

"I...didn't think I..." Lib trailed off, closely examining her screen as he carefully punched the numbers in once more.

Another red flicker. " _Access denied. 30...29...28..._ "

Crowe pushed Lib aside frantically, leaning in for a closer look at the keypad. "Why is it counting down?!" she demanded.

"That's two wrong attempts," Lib said, quickly nudging her out of the way.

"What the hell..?" Nyx broke in, leaning in close as well.

"Don't—!" Lib said, suddenly blocking Crowe's attempt at reaching for the pinpad. "The intel they gave us is wrong! A third attempt at it will likely set the alarms off immediately—"

"It can't be wrong!" Crowe interjected, heatedly.

"They must have changed his status," Lib said quickly, attempting to explain it to himself as much as to her.

"What?"

"The prisoner's priority status—it must have been upped since our intel team gathered—"

"Wha—Why would they up his security status?!" Crowe demanded, clearly quickly approaching panic.

"Look—I-I don't know, but the system must have switched to an automatic, time-based rotation of pass codes—It must have changed on the hour."

"What do we do?!" Crowe turned, wide-eyed, to Nyx, clearly afraid he was going to confirm her worst fear.

Nyx's jaw was set in a firm line. "...We have a fifteen second head start to retreat."

She stared at him for a split second of hesitation before reluctantly nodding. And it was only then that she seemed to notice Noct standing behind them all. "Oh _shit_ ," she said, the panic in her eyes turning to full-blown terror as they locked on the prince. She gave Nyx a shove in his direction. "Get him out of here _now!_ " she exclaimed.

Crowe was quickly scrambling to her feet and reaching for Noctis. No doubt to drag him as fast and far as humanly possible away from there.

"No!" Noct whirled, dodging her grasp, his own level of panic already past the boiling point and bubbling over. He hadn't come all this way for the rescue to end in such a pointless and devastating failure! Prompto was _just behind that door_...!

"Grab him, for God's sake—if you have to carry his ass out of here—!" Crowe was frantically ordering the other two, desperate to get the prince away.

 _"10...9...8..."_

 _No...Prompto...!_

Hardly aware of the outstretched hands grasping for him, Noctis lurched away again, lunging, reaching for the door...

...And phased through it.

Time seemed to slow as Noctis staggered into the room, barely managing to catch his balance as he stumbled forward.

And whereupon righting himself, time further seemed to draw to a standstill as Noct lifted his gaze, unreadily meeting a scene straight from his nightmares.

There he was. Blond head drooped, wiry arms stretched cruelly and held fast, Prompto hung a pace's length away, unmoving.

Noct's breath had left him outside the door. Their sole function completely forgotten, his lungs contorted along with the rest of his insides, freezing solid as the room suddenly seemed to do the whole tilting thing again—threatening to careen him into darkness from the absolute foreign wrongness of the sight before him.

His feet remained permanently planted, undecided between how quickly they could carry him to his best friend, or how fast they could lead him as far away from this nightmarish scene as possible.

He fought against the dizziness to take what almost qualified as a half-step forward, when a voice in his mind suddenly broke through the deafening silence.

 _The door...!_

Time suddenly seemed to spring back into action again as Noct instantly whirled on his heel, all but throwing himself at the door behind him. He turned the handle, flinging it open...

Where he was met with three pairs of saucer eyes, and one unbelieving mouth agape.

No alarm sounded. As Noct suspected, opening the door from the inside had negated the security countdown.

Lib blinked, closing his slack jaw. "Can—can you do—" he stammered, turning to Nyx who was still staring at Noct, brow creased. "Can he do that?"

Crowe was staring as well, though she seemed to quickly revert close to her usual coolness, with the threat of triggered alarms now quelled.

Noct didn't even wait a beat to offer any explanation or extend an invitation inside. They could stare at him dumbfounded all day long if they wanted to.

 _Prompto_.

Noct was at his side in an instant. A hand briefly brushing his bangs away, lingering on his cheek, hesitantly skimming down his body, not knowing at all what to do. There were...wires taped to him. Why were wires taped to him...? There was just too much wiry shit involved with this disgusting contraption Prompto was in and it was quickly making Noct sick.

He swallowed the bile in his throat, tugging at a cuff on Prompto's wrist. Had they...had they...tortured—?

He couldn't even finish the thought and he could not get him loose, there was no give. His breath had finally rejoined him, although it had decided to do so in short, shallow heaves.

He stopped his futile tugging and moved to the wires taped to his temple, his neck, his chest. He tore at them, flinging them away with a hot hatred that coursed through him, eliciting a faint burning behind his eyes. He blinked away his blurred vision. His breath hitched. He went back to tugging at the solid cuffs.

He vaguely noticed Crowe's quiet arrival beside him.

"How—how do I—" Noct attempted to plead for help, his voice faltering.

Lib was there too, around the side, fiddling with what apparently must have been the contraption's controls, because a moment later there was a faint hiss followed by a brief click, and Prompto was free.

Noct caught his unconscious form, arms encircling him tightly, the full of weight of his friend against him the most relieving feeling he'd felt in ages—even as it sent them both toppling to the floor.

He eased Prompto to his back, brushing his bangs aside with shaky fingers once more. His face was pale and battered. Noct could make out a few bruises forming across the shallow rise and fall of his chest, but all in all, everything appeared to be in working order. He was here, and he was okay.

It was as if the flood gates opened. All the anxiety and stress and fear and guilt and self-loathing that had consumed the prince, suddenly seemed to come tumbling out in one massive, jumbled sigh of relief. At least he wished it was simply a sigh. His breathing hitched again, coming in short, erratic gasps as he fell against his unconscious friend, forehead pressed firmly against his chest, hands wringing the heck out of his lifeless arm.

He might have had to blink several times to clear the annoying stinging behind his eyes, but Noct didn't care how threatening the tears were. It was much-needed catharsis.

Crowe laid a reassuring hand on Noct's shoulder. Nyx's fingers found Prompto's pulse. Lib crouched near, preparing to gather the unconscious boy in his arms.

"Time to go," Crowe said in a low, gentle voice, easing the prince to his feet.

Noct was reluctant to let go of his best friend, but at the same time, more than ready to finally get him out of there. He nodded faintly, gathering his feet under him as Lib hoisted Prompto up as if he weighed nothing at all.

Before leading him from the room, Noct was surprised when Crowe took a brief moment to squeeze his shoulder, leaning in with a quiet voice to tell him, "You did good."

Her way of thanking him for salvaging the mission from imminent failure, Noct assumed. Which wasn't much, considering the entire mess of the day had been his fault to begin with, but Noct would take it for now.

It would be a while before he'd be on the receiving end of any kind words, Noct realized despondently, as he allowed the glaives to lead him from the god-forsaken room.

* * *

The rendezvous site had relocated further up the road to pick up Unit C, upon hearing they were on their way out with the target secured. Noct tried to enjoy his last brief moments of freedom as best he could, but it proved difficult.

He was certain the other two glaives had pieced together his identity quite quickly after his phasing stunt through the door, but they had decided to keep quiet about it. Very quiet. No one spoke almost the entire way back, and Noct couldn't help feeling very dispirited because of it.

He couldn't blame them though. He wouldn't let anything happen to them, of course, but in their eyes, their positions with the kingsglaive may have been jeopardized due to the prince's deceptive actions.

Although, surprisingly, they didn't seem bitter towards him. Just reserved and quiet. He wanted to at least apologize and assure them that everything would be fine, but he just...couldn't really find the words. Not without the embarrassment and shame coming back in full force.

Prompto slept on unchanged, carefully cradled by Lib the whole way. Noct wished he'd be able to ride back to Insomnia with his best friend, but he knew there was likely little chance of that happening. He knew exactly whom he was going to be riding home with. And, he wouldn't lie, he was scared. He almost wished he could ditch the crew he was with, go catch a chocobo, and ride it to the ends of Eos before ever going back to Insomnia. But he knew that wasn't an option. It was time to face the music.

They reached the road much sooner than he was expecting. Black vehicles lined the shoulder, faint silhouettes milling between them. Noct wanted to at least thank the glaives, but they had arrived at the group before he knew it.

Lib disappeared with Prompto, likely taking him straight to a medically staffed vehicle, and Crowe and Nyx seemed to vanish as well.

Noct could hardly say he was surprised when an all too familiar set of strong hands found him, whirling him about and flinging his visor up. A sudden flashlight in his face blinded him.

A seething inhale of breath followed by a whispered, "God _damn it..._ ," and Noct found himself harshly seized under the arm and immediately dragged away. He wasn't sure if his own feet were helping him along at all, but he suspected they didn't need to, with how forceful Gladio was being.

Noct wasn't surprised that Gladio seemed to have been expecting him. The subtle hint from Nyx over the comms earlier had probably tipped him off immediately.

He found himself alongside a car before he knew it, Gladio practically pulling the door off its hinges as he flung it open.

"Get in the car."

Noct couldn't help hesitating. The car meant certain death.

"Get in the car, Noct."

When his fixed feet still refused to move, not out of obstinance so much as fear, Gladio finally decided to "help" him inside.

The door slammed behind him, jarring Noct's frazzled nerves. This...was not going to be a pleasant ride home.

The opposite door opened a moment later, and surprise, surprise—as if Noctis couldn't have possibly felt worse already, Ignis climbed in beside him.

"Oh," Noct said, failing to keep the dread from lacing his voice. He was genuinely surprised that Ignis had decided to be on-site this whole time. "Hey...," he barely managed to get out, his voice weakly trailing off as he stared at the floor.

Ignis said nothing, just mildly cleared his throat and stared straight ahead. Noct could sense a heavy exhaustion about him. And the disappointment and betrayal aimed his way was palpable. Noct wished he could shrink into the seat and disappear.

He...desperately wanted to tell Ignis how sorry he was, but he could tell now was not quite the time. Too soon.

They sat in a never-ending silence, neither moving nor offering even a hint of wanting to start a conversation. It was pretty brutal.

Finally, Gladio reappeared, flinging the door open once more, and Noct was almost grateful to see him, anxious to be done with the painful silence surrounding Ignis, as he was.

"Well, Cor and Drautos say you are absolutely not to be trusted regarding your abilities. They've had it up to here with your entitled, do-as-you-please bullshit—as have we all." Gladio's rage was as palpable as Ignis' disappointment. "They've come to the conclusion the only way to keep you from misusing them is through either physical restraint or rendering you unconscious. So, take your pick," he said, brandishing a handful of zip ties and a spell flask.

 _Probably because you told them that, right?_ Noct fumed. The irony that Gladio's escape tactics training session from a few days earlier had not only provided Gladio with a thorough assessment of Noct's abilities regarding escape, but had also granted him the more useful information of how to effectively contain the prince—he couldn't phase out of being tied-up—was not lost on Noct.

Noct clenched his jaw. Very bogus. But...he had made his bed. And now it was time to lie in it.

He couldn't deny the sleep option sounded tempting. To be spared the misery of the two hour ride home, sandwiched between a very angry Gladio and an almost visibly distressed Ignis, was definitely the preferable option. But he couldn't pass up the potential chance (no matter how small it may be) of getting to see Prompto when they arrived at the citadel. He might even be awake by then.

He stared for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line, before finally turning and offering his wrists to Gladio behind his back. It was stupid and pointless, really, seeing how he wasn't going anywhere now that Prompto had been recovered. But he could kind of see how he really hadn't given Cor and Drautos any other choice. They had to make absolutely certain he had no chance of running away this time.

Gladio seemed unfazed by Noct's contrition. He still cinched the zip ties around Noct's wrists and ankles a little tighter than was necessary.

Well, this was certainly going to add to the pleasantness of the drive home, Noct thought dismally as he tried in vain to get comfortable after Gladio buckled him in.

They set off not long after, the atmosphere of the car heavy with unspoken emotion. Noct was just waiting for it. He knew Gladio would not be able to keep quiet much longer. Any minute now...

"Noctis," Gladio cut the silence, finally trusting himself to speak somewhat close to levelly.

 _Ah, here we go...Starting with my full name, no less. Never a good sign._

"Do you...Do you have any idea what you risked tonight?"

Noct could tell Gladio was trying very hard to put up a calm front. But Noct could hear the suppressed anger in Gladio's breathing—it was too fast, too harsh.

Noct was scared to answer. He knew any reply he offered would be wrong. And he knew staying silent would also be wrong. He didn't know what to do. But he couldn't think of anything to say...so, he risked the silent option.

"...Do you?" Gladio pressed after a moment, still clearly struggling to keep his temper reined in.

Ignis shifted slightly next to him. He probably was unsure whether they should be attempting a conversation so soon. He likely knew as well as Noct how it would inevitably end up—in the usual shouting match.

But Noct knew he had no right to shout back this time. He was fully and completely in the wrong, and whatever Gladio needed to get off his chest (and he was sure it was a shitton), he should probably just let him. It's not like he had much of a choice, anyway—he was literally tied-up and trapped in a car with him for the next two hours.

"...I guess I might have somewhat of an inkling...?" Noct offered quietly, unsure how Gladio would respond.

"Do you?" he asked again. "Do you have even the _faintest_ idea?"

Noct tried again. "...No, I...guess not?"

"You crossed into imperial territory. No, not just imperial territory—you crossed onto imperial _grounds_. Into—into the heart of an imperial _base_." He paused, drawing in a sharp breath through his nose. "Noctis...what the hell is wrong with you?"

Noct just stared at the zip tie encircling his boots.

"What were you _thinking?_ "

Noct knew that question was inevitable. Everyone seemed to be wondering that about him lately.

Ignis shifted uncomfortably next to him once more, choosing again to remain silent for the time being.

"Impersonating the crownsguard, infiltrating an official kingsglaive mission—putting the entire mission itself in jeopardy. Why did you do it?! You knew Prompto's situation was being dealt with!"

"Was it?" Noct finally cut in, willing his voice not to get too heated. "You heard what went down with the intel mix-up. If I hadn't been there—"

"If you hadn't been there, like you weren't supposed to be, the situation would have been dealt with appropriately."

"How? By abandoning Prompto?!" He knew he wasn't actually going to get any credit for his contribution to the mission, once again noting to himself how the whole thing was his fault, but it was worth half a shot.

"Noct," Gladio said, still somehow managing to keep his voice fairly steady. "Do you have any idea what would happen if you had fallen into imperial hands?"

Noct paused. He...felt kind of stupid, but he hadn't really given it much serious thought.

"Do you have any idea of the lengths your father would go to to retrieve you?"

The...lengths his father would go to? Huh?

"Your father would burn down the whole goddamn world if it meant getting you back."

What?

"You risked the potential of serious, full-blown, guns-blazing, soldiers-dying warfare tonight, Noctis."

Noct could feel his face reddening. He tried to swallow. Could that...be true?

"Noct," Gladio said, exasperated. "What in the almighty Six is it going to take for you to learn to do as your told?"

Noct still couldn't formulate a reply, the full impact of Gladio's words still registering with him. Yeah, he knew crossing into imperial territory was definitely not the wisest idea on his part, but could what he said be true? Would his father really selfishly risk warfare and innocent lives for the sake of his own son...? That...kind of shed a new and unpleasant light on his position that he had never considered before. And it scared him.

Fed up with the prince's stunned silence and quickly losing his grasp on his temper, Gladio finally had had enough. "It's clear you really don't give much thought to anything." He ran a hand down his face. "You know what? Screw it. The grownups need to talk for now."

And with that, Noct felt the startling shattering of a spell flask against his arm. And his convoluted, troublesome thoughts slipped away into nothingness.

* * *

 **A/N: Promto has finally made his reappearance! Woohoo! Although, I'm sorry for his lack of dialogue due to his unconscious state, but I wanted the true reunion between him and Noct to be at a later, less-hectic time.**

 **And I was really excited about bringing Gladio and Ignis back into the picture. I have to apologize again for the complete lack of dialogue on Ignis' part. But I truly think he would have just been 100% speechless at Noct's behavior for the time being.**

 **And Gladio...I wasn't certain about how that scene with Gladio turned out. My main goal was to hopefully have it come across as realistic and in-character as I could, and I just hope it was to your guys' liking.**

 **What other notes to add...Let's see...Oh, the increase of Prompto's security status took place when (you might recall in chapter 8) those imperial goons realized Prompto had connections to the royal family. So, that's what was going on there.**

 **Hmm, what else...I think that's about it. There's a lot of angsty Noct-suffering to come next chapter. Thanks for reading, and as always, your comments provide such greatly appreciated motivation to continue seeing this fic through to its conclusion! So, thank you so much!**

 **Sorry the updates continue to be monthly, but between my two tiny kids, Persona 5, and my latest hindrance to writing—BTS videos (Oh my gosh, I fell down the BTS rabbit hole hard about a month ago, and I am never willingly crawling back out again. Are any of my readers fellow BTS Armys?), I'm guessing they will likely continue to be a few weeks apart. Thank you for your patience and for sticking with me!**


	12. Chapter 12

Noctis was out as abruptly as if they'd flipped his "off" switch. He immediately slumped sideways, settling unmoving against Gladio's arm.

Gladio let out of long groan of a sigh, rubbing at his eyes and brow. "I just...I don't even..." He didn't know where to begin, and he couldn't seem to construct a proper sentence at the moment, incredulous and angry as he was. But he suspected Ignis completely understood him, regardless. They'd practically held entire conversations consisting of much less before—oftentimes mere shared glances when Noct's back was turned.

He could not even begin to wrap his head around Noctis' actions that night. It just...Had he really...Ugh. He was too furious to even form a proper sentence in his head.

Somehow managing to sneak out of the citadel (after being placed under guard, no less), making his way unseen to the glaives' quarters, tricking the glaives into allowing him to accompany them, secretly tagging along on an official mission...into (the worst part of the entire bad joke) an actual _imperial base_. It just...it left him completely speechless. Speechless and, well, "seething" was putting it lightly.

 _How_ had he pulled it off?! And why? Why, why, why? Yes, he understood how important Prompto's friendship was to the prince. And if he hadn't quite understood before, he certainly did now. He never would have imagined Noct going to such lengths for anything before. But Prompto offered a friendship that Ignis' and his own could never quite compare to. Sure, he knew their bond with Noct was just as solid and as important to him as Prompto's was. But Prompto's was unique in the way that it was the only friendship Noct possessed that had been completely freely-offered from the beginning. Prompto had never in any way been obligated to befriend Noct, yet he chose to of his own accord. And there never seemed to be a hint of selfish ulterior motives behind it—Prompto had always treated Noct as a regular person, with minimal interest in his royal status. As the prince, a genuine friend like that must be an extremely rare and challenging thing to come by. While Gladio and Ignis would claim their obligation to aid and befriend Noctis had turned to willing choice long ago, it would never be quite the same. He knew Prompto offered a lifeline to Noct that was irreplaceable.

However, Gladio knew it was more than Noct's fear of losing Prompto that had led him to act out so impetuously. It was also the guilt. The crushing guilt of knowing his best friend had ended up in such a precarious situation because he had all but led him directly to it. Gladio was certain Noct would have blamed himself for the entire thing. And that guilt must have consumed him. To the point of following through on every foolish whim he had that night—all in order to retrieve his friend.

It was...starting to make a little bit of sense. Maybe. But even if Gladio could _kind of_ comprehend Noct's line of thinking, it absolutely in no way justified his preposterous actions. Seriously, what had he been thinking?! He knew a search and rescue party was out looking for Prompto. He knew intelligence had become extensively involved on the case. He even knew the _glaives_ had been deployed to bring him back. How had that not been enough for him?

A king had to be able to delegate—to trust his surrounding supporters with crucial tasks everyday—even when lives may hang in the balance. Noct would have to learn, as king, he would never be able to get so personally involved in such affairs, no matter how desperately he may want to. He would have to learn to accept his role as an observer. A magistrate. A stationary symbol of protection, strength and safety for all of Insomnia. No matter how burdensome of a role it may be at times.

But yes, it absolutely had to have been the soul-rending guilt. Noct never handled guilt well. It brought out a self-loathing in the prince that was borderline worrisome at times. Yeah, okay, maybe Gladio _sometimes_ took advantage of Noct's aversion to guilt in an attempt to teach him the occasional lesson. But after witnessing tonight's display...he was going to have to start taking Noct's self-deprecating nature more seriously.

Noct had been willing to throw it all away—everything—any minor freedoms he'd ever been allowed to enjoy, his responsibilities as the future king, his own safety, and potentially his very own _life_ had all been laid on the line without hesitation. All for the sake of his best friend. And not to mention the amount of daring determination, quick thinking, and innovative utilization of his abilities it must have taken for Noct to get as far as he had.

He might not be capable of admitting it or even acknowledging it at the moment, but Gladio couldn't help the faint trace of pride that suddenly glowed to life deep inside him. He had always known Noct possessed an innate nobility about him, even if it was buried under the surface more often than not. But seeing it manifest itself to such an extent—despite all the insane decisions involved—almost made Gladio's entire role in the prince's life seem the slightest bit validated. Noct was still in deep shit. Deeper than he realized. But pondering on the heroics he'd shown, as misguided as they were, managed to lessen Gladio's all-consuming ire the slimmest of fractions.

Ignis had finally decided to stir for once, his subtle movement catching Gladio's attention and dragging him from the depths of his thoughts.

Unbuckling Noct, Ignis let him sink towards Gladio's lap, attempting to gain access to his bound arms. Summoning a dagger, he quickly and carefully severed the ties on Noct's wrists and ankles, not surprising Gladio in the least. He knew Ignis couldn't handle seeing their charge in any form of distress—even asleep as he was.

Which is why he also knew this conversation wasn't going to be easy for Ignis. He was surprised, however, when Ignis spoke first. Gently righting and repositioning Noct, Ignis quietly buckled him in once more.

"I...should have expected this..." Ignis said softly. Gladio could hear the layers of exhaustion and defeat in his voice.

Of course he would say something along those lines. It incited his anger again, hearing Ignis completely gloss over the disappointment and betrayal he had every right to be frothing with, and go directly to self-blame.

"How?" Gladio practically spat out. "How could you have possibly expected this?"

Ignis went on, ignoring the question. "I was...too wrapped up in concern over Prompto. I should have been more attentive to Noct's state of mind..."

"We were all worried about Prompto." Gladio stated. He really didn't want Ignis attempting to bear the blame for this. It was bullshit. "How could we have ever suspected what Noct was planning? Let alone that he'd actually be capable of pulling it off."

"I shouldn't have come on site. I should have stayed with him..."

"Ignis. Would you knock it off?" Gladio said, peeved. He rubbed at his brow briefly again. "Look. He's smart, alright? Despite every idiotic decision he made tonight—the kid's smart. We both know that. And sneaky, and stubborn...God, when he sets his mind to something..." He trailed off before fanning his own flames too much.

Ignis stared at the seat in front of him, letting a brief silence fall between them. His voice seemed to soften further. "Tonight...could have ended so..."

Horrifyingly disastrous? Incomprehensibly _bad?_ Yeah, Gladio didn't need to hear it, he was all too aware. And Ignis couldn't seem to finish the sentence, anyway.

The thought of Noct falling into enemy hands that night had been far too real a possibility. Gladio was aware it had been...he was trying to completely grasp it...but the implications of it were too frightening to allow any dwelling upon.

Gladio's list of fears in life was brief and very limited. But atop that list, bolded and underscored, was failure. Failure in his duties. Failure to Noct, failure to the king, failure to his father.

It was something he...never really thought too heavily on because he would never allow it to happen. But tonight...seeing how all control had been stripped from his hands—and how he'd been completely unaware until it would have potentially been too late—was almost...numbing in the way it overwhelmed him.

Tonight could have been a complete and utter "game over" in life.

Yes, Gladio was all too aware. And he was certain Ignis' thoughts were almost exactly mirroring his own.

He let the heavy silence continue to blanket them in uneasy discomfort for a time, the subtle weight of Noct's sleeping form against his shoulder the only thing keeping Gladio's thoughts somewhat grounded.

Another drawn-out moment of near-tangible disquiet, and Gladio finally collected his voice. "...You...know what has to happen, right...?"

He noticed Ignis' gaze drop to his lap, head slightly bowing as his breathing took on an air of resignation. The nod he offered was nearly imperceptible.

Gladio hesitated briefly, already hating this conversation before it had really begun. "Noct's most likely unaware..." _Seriously, the things that fail to cross that kid's mind sometimes._ "But, really...the success in him getting as far as he did tonight...indicates a grievous failure...on both our parts." It was painful to say.

Another slow and hardly detectable nod from Ignis. He likely hadn't needed Gladio to outright say it—he'd undoubtedly been mulling over the same distressing thought.

Gladio let it sink in for a moment. Not so much because he thought it needed to, but more so because he just did not want to speak further on it. But he knew they had to.

He cleared his throat, adjusting his position against the seat as best he could without jostling Noct too much. "It's...hard to say what the council will decide in our case..." He was kind of talking it out for his own sake, but he knew Ignis was listening. "I'm pretty certain forced resignation is off the table...with how crucial they consider our established rapport with Noct..." They hadn't been hand-selected as children without an end goal in mind. That goal being for them to develop a solid, life-long bond with the prince. One that would be irreplaceable by adulthood and invaluable throughout his sovereignty. Which they both had done—and not out of duty. Noct had become a younger brother to them.

Attempting to replace either of Noct's retainers this late in the game would be a disaster. Noct would...not handle it well. The council knew this. And Gladio knew his and Ignis' performance through the years (discounting the last couple days) had always been favorable in their eyes. No, short of death or treason, there was likely nothing that would warrant the council dismissing them completely. And if it was up to the king alone, Gladio knew their positions would always be secure.

But a temporary leave of absence. That was the logical move. The majority of the council might not be willing to permanently relieve them of their duties, but there would still undoubtedly be heavy disapproval amongst them, regarding his and Ignis' handling of the prince the last few days. Noct should never, in his wildest dreams, have been able to set foot on imperial grounds without their knowing. They had dropped the ball. And it was maddening and frustrating and embarrassing...and shameful.

If the council didn't call for a leave of absence, Gladio would have to request it. It was the least of what he deserved for such a failure. And he knew, as usual, Ignis was surely thinking along the same lines.

Gladio drew a heavy breath. "I think we both know stepping out for a bit is likely our best option. Once this spreads," and spread it would, "the council will undoubtedly feel pressured to take action at the prince's level. Our leave should be enough to appease the bureaucrats who are going to be up in arms over this...it won't be lost on them how close this potentially could have brought us to out-and-out warfare..." He exhaled wearily. "And not to mention, it might actually be the only repercussion to have somewhat of an impact on Noct..."

Gladio knew that was probably putting it lightly. Once Noct realized the extent of the problematic situation he'd put his friends in, he was surely going to be devastated.

It was unfortunate, but there was nothing for it now. Though the irony that his own absence from the disciplining process was actually in itself going to have the most consequential effect on Noct, was not lost on Gladio.

Ignis shifted, adjusting his glasses. Gladio glanced over at him, studying briefly. "What are you thinking?" He'd learned long ago it was always easier to just ask Ignis outright rather than trying to read between the lines of stoicism.

"Merely...contemplating," Ignis replied, his voice still more subdued than usual.

Gladio studied a moment longer. "Contemplating what?"

Ignis glanced down.

Noting the obvious state of chagrin gripping his friend, Gladio voiced his suspicions. "...If you're thinking of offering your full resignation..."

Ignis didn't provide any hint of refuting him.

"Ignis," Gladio pressed, fed up with his silence.

Ignis' inhale sounded thoroughly drained. "I think the decision should be left to the council after providing me a full and unbiased review." He went on, his voice taking on a new note of dismay. "Gladio, I'm the one responsible for underestimating him...For thoughtlessly leaving him to wallow in fear and guilt all evening." He listlessly adjusted his shoulders. "...For letting slip mention of the glaives."

Gladio ran the back of his arm across his eyes. "Ugh, Ignis...that is such a load of shit." He rubbed at his brow again, hoping to drive out some of the exasperation consuming him. "The only thing you're at fault for tonight is trying to take care of too many people at once." He dropped his arm, struggling again not to jar Noct too much. "And if you're so insistent on playing the blame game," Gladio went on, "at least pin it where it belongs, for Gods' sake."

Ignis looked to him.

A hint of penance lurked behind Gladio's exhale. "Who all but chased Noct from his bedroom, huh? Who riled him up to the point of completely bailing? ...Yeah. If you're going to toss blame around, at least let it fall where it goddamn belongs."

Ignis just continued to silently watch him for a moment, likely fully aware those words would only ever be for his ears alone. Gladio didn't admit fault easily. He prided himself in being right and doing right always. To admit otherwise was small-scale failure to him. Loathsome.

Ignis was about to interject but Gladio continued before he could.

"I try to keep a handle on my temper around him—I really do," Gladio said fervidly. "But sometimes, I just feel like _nothing_ is getting _through_ to him..." He felt his fingernails bite into his palm, not noticing how tightly he'd been clenching his fist. "The thought of taking leave, no matter how brief..." He really didn't like how close he was toeing the line of discussing feelings at the moment. Ignis had to have understood what he was trying to say without making him voice it. He didn't want to vocally admit how straight-up furious the thought of taking leave made him. How much of a failure it made him feel. He shifted again. "It's just...it's probably best if I attempt to wash my hands of the whole thing for now..." His gaze dropped a fraction, not quite falling to his lap. "The thought of potentially losing it with him again...of provoking him to that extent again..." He was really trying to admit fault, here. He hoped Ignis understood that. He pressed his lips together, gathering a breath through his nose. "If I hadn't pressed him like that...If I had just kept my damn temper in check...This entire mess..." He trailed off, rubbing disconsolately at his brow.

Gladio was hoping Ignis would finally put him out of his misery by taking hold of the conversation reins. He felt his eyes on him a moment longer before Ignis finally offered, "If I'm not allowed to wallow in self-blame, then you can't be afforded the privilege either."

A muscle tugged weakly at the corner of Gladio's mouth. He was grateful for his friend's simple, yet resolute assurance that enough had been said on the matter.

Ignis went on, however. "Truly, Gladio. I hope you're not planning on shouldering all this..." He hesitated, straightening. "If I hadn't gone in early to wake Noct that morning...If Noct hadn't suffered from nightmares the previous night...If Prompto had never befriended Noct in the first place..." He paused a beat. "With such an endless plenitude of 'ifs,' it's hard to suppose blame ever rightly falls anywhere..."

Gladio released the weakest snort in reply, thankful for Ignis' attempt at consolation. Philosophical nonsense never did much for him, though. He knew a good portion of the blame absolutely fell squarely on him. He may be a stubborn man at times, but he never denied blatant fact.

Ignis chose to break the momentary silence once more, his tone dropping, laden with dread. "Noct's going to have an exceptionally difficult time with this..."

Gladio knew that was an understatement. He would. And Gladio did feel sorry for it. Quite sorry, in fact. But learning from one's actions was never supposed to be easy.

Gladio stretched a cramped leg. He turned his gaze to Ignis, hesitating briefly before asking, "Will you be okay?"

Ignis peered at the seat in front of him for a long time before finally offering a reluctant nod. "I'm just concerned how Noct will manage..." He paused again, his glance unwillingly falling on the tousled dark mop pressed against Gladio's arm. "Will you?" he asked quietly.

Gladio merely pressed his jaw in a firm line in response. He'd have to be.

* * *

Noctis stirred, slowly drawing back from the void he couldn't recall slipping away to. He cracked an eyelid, wincing at the invasive light that flooded his vision. Stretching gingerly, he felt strangely as if he had just woken from a typical afternoon power-nap, yet at the same time it almost felt as if he'd been asleep for days.

He glanced around his bedroom, wondering how late he must have slept in till. It must have been around noon or a little after, judging by the—

...

Oh, shit.

Noct involuntarily winced again, the streaming sunlight having nothing to do with it this time. His breath escaped him as he suddenly realized why he couldn't remember going to bed the previous night—because he hadn't.

The car ride. The glaives. Prompto.

Shit.

He clapped a hand to his forehead, letting every detail from the previous night come to the forefront of his mind. The last thing he remembered was sitting zip-tied and sandwiched between Gladio and Ignis—both of whom had just found out about his little escapade with the glaives.

Ignis' despondent silence. Gladio's bewildered fury. Noct couldn't help flinching yet again at the memory. It had been...most unpleasant. Unsurprisingly so.

Gladio must have knocked him out—he couldn't remember falling asleep of his own accord. A move like that would have normally had Noct indignant and fuming, but he was actually somewhat grateful to have been spared the remainder of the drive home. Two hours with Ultra Angry Gladio might very well have proven to be fatal. And Ignis...Man, Ultra Disappointed Ignis was almost worse. He'd never seen his advisor so clearly upset with him before. It was...not a good feeling. Probably one of the shittiest feelings ever, actually. The guilt hadn't lessened in the slightest since being found out, and Noct knew it wouldn't until he was able to deliver a full and proper apology to his friend and retainer, and attempt to explain everything. Ah, he just hoped Ignis would understand.

Speaking of, where was he? It was unusual for Ignis not to be there when Noct awoke from unnatural sleep. Ignis always worried about such things, and preferred to keep a close watch on his charge until he could make his own judgment call of whether everything appeared to be fine.

Plus, Noct...really needed to hear news of Prompto. When had he awoken? Where was he now, in the medical wing? How serious of medical attention did he require? Had anyone made mention of Noct's involvement in the rescue? God, he hoped not. And he hoped no one ever would. Prompto would be horrified and likely haunted by the "what ifs" of the whole situation for a good long while. No, Prompto didn't ever need to be bothered with the details of his rescue... Gah, Noct just hoped he'd get to see him today. They had a lot to catch up on. And Prompto still had some explaining of his own to share.

Noct sat up, looking to his nightstand. His heart sank a little when, sure enough, his phone was nowhere to be seen.

He glanced at his desk across the room. Nope, no laptop either. Just text books and study materials.

Okay, not surprising. Noct knew he was in the biggest trouble of his life, here. And he knew they couldn't make him suffer much more than he typically did on a day-to-day basis. Noct didn't have many freedoms to boast of. So, it would have to come down to the little things. No phone. No computer. Noct was always complaining about not being treated normally enough, and was there anything more normal for a teen than having their crap confiscated when they got grounded? Probably not. It wasn't too big of a deal, really...except Noct was dying to text Ignis. He was quickly starting to feel isolated, and he needed some news, dammit.

Noct knew they'd also likely forbid the use of his abilities for the foreseeable future. That was fine, whatever. He wasn't planning on anymore escapades. He knew they'd also make him attend a disciplinary hearing in front of the council soon. That...was going to royally suck, there was no getting around that. But it would just be a half hour or so of lectures and feeling like shit. He'd survive.

Really, all he had to do was lay low and ride out the bulk of the aftermath with as much contriteness as he could muster. Which shouldn't be too hard, because honestly, he did feel remorseful for everything.

He tossed the covers aside and scooted to the edge of the bed, noting Ignis' thoughtfulness in pulling off his pants and socks this time.

 _Ugh, where is he?_

He made his way to his dresser, locating a pair of sweatpants and pulling them on. He turned to glance out the wall of windows. Yep, there was a guard placed outside the glass door, and two more at either ends of the balcony. Noct was certain he'd find even two more outside his bedroom door. Five dudes. Five members of the crownsguard tasked with wasting their lives standing at attention for the time being, all because of a few unfortunate decisions he'd made. It was...embarrassing. And maddening. They weren't necessary. He wasn't going to attempt anything.

He rubbed at his eyes and face, pacing a length away. Ugh, that unbearable feeling of being trapped was setting in fast.

 _What the heck is taking Ignis?_

He finally noticed the tray of food on the coffee table, and figuring it would be as good a distraction as any, he went for it.

It didn't take long to realize how hungry he actually was. It felt like he hadn't eaten in days. Which, really, he couldn't actually recall the last proper meal he'd had. He made short work of the spread, hoping Ignis would arrive at any moment to chide him for his lack of manners.

 _Seriously, where is he?_

He figured he'd at least give the guards at the door a try before resigning himself to the shower for now.

He crossed the floor and drew open the door. Sure enough, Unlucky Crownsguard Members Four and Five greeted him. He couldn't help feeling a prick of embarrassment as he faced them.

"Your highness," they said, turning to him and offering a brief bow.

"Hey," Noct said, trying his hardest to keep the embarrassment from mounting. He refrained from scratching the imaginary itch behind his neck. "So, I figure I'm supposed to stay in here and everything," he said gesturing, "and, that's fine, I mean, I get it..." His embarrassment had to be on full display now. "But, would one of you mind tracking down Ignis for me? I really need to talk to him, and I'd...really appreciate it." Such deja vu.

"It's...requested you rest for now, Your Highness," one of them responded with another bow.

"...Okay," Noct said, glancing between them. "But, do you think one of you could find Ignis while I'm stuck in here 'resting?'"

"Apologies, Your Highness, but...we're not to leave our post."

"Please return to your chambers for the time being, Your Highness."

And with that they turned back around. They were probably told to close the door if Noct attempted to keep conversing with them, but neither had the gall to do so, so they settled on ignoring him, hoping he'd retreat back to his room on his own.

Well, looked like he had no other choice. Noct closed the door behind him with a frustrated sigh, wondering why they'd blatantly skirted his simple request.

He truly had no option but to resign himself to the role of prisoner for the time being. Yeah, he...supposed he deserved it...but he couldn't lie, it still stung. Maybe the council held more sway over him than he realized. Maybe they were capable and intent on making his life hell for the next, who knew how long...?

He ran a forlorn hand through his hair, wishing for the millionth time that Ignis was there. His calming presence was the only thing that could ease the unrest quickly threatening to overwhelm him...

* * *

 **A/N- I hope the Gladio POV was an unexpected and enjoyable segment for you guys to read! I've always thought it would be pretty fascinating to be privy to one of Iggy and Gladio's private discussions about Noct and their duties to him. I'm convinced they hold secret pow-wows together allllll the time when Noct's not around (or not awake). And I really hope that scene came across as believable enough for you guys.**

 **I'm also hoping the second half didn't seem too repetitive now that Noct's back in the citadel and back in deep trouble. As I was writing it, I was all, "Wait...this all sounds awfully familiar...Hm, chapter 6, is that you?" I'm kind of sad all the heavy action has wrapped up, but it's time for some less-action-packed angst, as Noct discovers how much trouble he's caused for Ignis and Gladio, and awaits the chance to see Prompto again.**

 **Also, please forgive Noct for his selfish regard towards Ignis this chapter—not even pausing to wonder if Ignis might merely be catching up on sleep, since, you know, Noct kept him up for two nights straight, lol. His selfishness isn't intentional, he just tends to take for granted how demanding Ignis' role can be. And he's so used to Ignis always giving him 110%, that he's never really known otherwise. When he realizes he's jeopardized the position of the one person he needs and relies on more than any other...it's going to be a rude awakening for him.**

 **Oh, and I've been trying to stick to the third-person limited POV these last few chapters, and I want to have a scene between Ignis and Prompto in the upcoming chapter. I can't decide if their conversation would be more interesting from Ignis' POV or from Prompto's. Any input? Lol, I hate when I overthink and become indecisive. I just need to start wrapping this fic up soon. BUT, one thing I really love about fan fiction is the fact that you're able to read and write so many non-plot-progressing scenes that would never have a place in a published novel. It allows for such wonderful character-delving, and that's probably my favorite thing ever.**

 **Thanks for taking the time to read! I hope you're all enjoying these last few days of summer!**

 **Edit: If you're reading this a little after the 28th (of August), please consider dropping me a comment! Reader response has been extremely lacking with this chapter (despite normal views), and it leads me to think you guys did not enjoy deviating from Noct's narration at all. If that's the case, please let me know, and I can skip writing the upcoming scene between Ignis and Prompto (because I already know it's going** **to be a bit of a challenge, lol), and I'll jump right back to Noct instead. I'd really appreciate it!**

 **Edit #2: If you're reading this a little after the 29th (of August)—I can't thank you guys enough for coming through for me! I was starting to think it was a big mistake not ending the fic right after the story's climax last chapter. But, I'm so happy there's a few of you still interested enough to stick around for the anticlimactic aftermath. I feel like there's still so much good angst to be had, that's why I felt it was worth continuing for a few more chapters. But, I tend to second guess my writing decisions all the time, so thank you so much for sharing encouraging words! Writing takes way more effort than it should nowadays (I know I blame everything on my kids, but seriously, basic things like showering and sitting down for a meal for myself have become luxuries these days, lol), and I just am so grateful for the validation that I'm not completely wasting my very limited free time on writing. Thanks so much, you guys!**

 **And I'm so glad there actually is interest for an upcoming scene with Ignis and Prompto. I really did want to write it, even though I know it's going to be such a struggle getting an Ignis POV right. I'm going to attempt Ignis, since that's what the majority asked for, but if I feel like I'm not doing him justice (seriously, Ignis is, like, pure perfection—he is so daunting to write), I might have to start over and switch to Prompto's POV. Wish me luck, lol.**


	13. Chapter 13

Ignis was not a heavy sleeper. It was practically an unwritten condition of his position that he remain ninety-nine point nine percent available approximately ninety-nine point nine percent of the time.

Whether Noct had a pressing question on his latest homework assignment ("I _have_ read the chapter, and it really doesn't make any sense! Can you please just come up here and do this with me?"), needed to vent about the latest ensemble he'd been arrayed in ("Are you _sure_ this shindig is black-tie? What if I'm literally the only person this overdressed? Ugh, I can't breathe. If I suffocate tonight, at least remember I _tried_ to tell you you tied this damn bow-tie too tight."), or the council needed a point or two of clarification on one of his latest reports, Ignis would answer or respond promptly. Day or night. Volume or vibrate. He was simply attuned to hear when he was needed.

It wasn't too surprising then, when a soft groan and faint rustle of sheets drew Ignis from his involuntary nap.

His eyelids felt significantly heavier than usual upon opening. His body protested as he automatically (albeit slowly) straightened in his chair, the subtle stretching of his cramped muscles igniting a slew of pleas to find a bed. Pushing his weariness aside, his eyes quickly fell to Prompto's still form, scanning him for the hundredth time since he'd been placed there early morning.

His pale face looked akin to an artist's white canvas—littered with test color swatches, as if the artist sought a particular and elusive shade of purple. His lip and eyebrow were both split, providing a complementary shock of red to the deep violet tones.

Ignis almost grimaced at his unintended metaphorical assessment of the younger man. Art was appealing and aesthetic. The sight before him couldn't be further from either.

A lifeless Prompto was a contradiction that was wrong in all regards. Observing him in such an erroneous state had weighed heavily on Ignis all morning. Prompto was never anything but bounding with exuberance and eagerness and a genuine interest in anything or anyone around him. A natural warmth and an innate sense of understanding were two of his most comprising traits, and his friendship with Noct had never been anything but authentic and uplifting. Ignis was grateful for the effect it had had on the prince the last several years. He always suspected Noct would benefit enormously if he could only make one legitimate friend in his peer group. One who could see past his royal title, and perhaps come close to forgetting he even bore it at times.

Prompto had stepped into that role with ease.

And to see the lively, kindhearted youth lying there motionless and battered...all due to political absurdities in which he played absolutely no part... There was simply no excuse for the empire's audacity—abducting an innocent Lucian youth...It was reprehensible.

He stifled a sigh, clasping his hands together lightly as he leaned forward, elbows on knees. The nearby heart-rate monitor held a steady tempo in the background, pacing his thoughts.

He couldn't allow his pondering to be consumed yet again by the endless _whys._ Just as he couldn't allow himself to deliberate on the events of the previous night yet...It was all simply too vast an amount of distressing thoughts to attempt sorting through without a clearer mind. And it required too much dwelling on Noct. And allowing his thoughts to focus on Noctis at the moment only invited unprofessional and irrelevant emotions to intrude. No, he would think thoroughly on Noctis' actions and their correlative situations after getting some rest. And...of course...he'd have to address the looming prospect of taking leave...

For now, however, it was Prompto that required his attention. He surveyed the younger man again, expecting to see further signs of waking, but Prompto had stilled once more.

Ignis waited. It would be fruitless to attempt sleep again himself. Prompto would surely be rousing shortly, and would undoubtedly need a comforting presence to ease his disorientation upon waking.

He may as well try and make use of the idle time, however. He reached for the bag at his feet, suddenly remembering his brief exchange with the glaive from hours earlier...

 _"Scientia?"_

 _Ignis could hardly bring himself to pause as he peered across the darkness of the rendezvous site. That dark figure in Gladio's grip...The mystery "kid" mentioned over the comms...It couldn't seriously be..._

 _"Scientia." The glaive lifted a hand to briefly halt Ignis' dead set course towards Gladio._

 _Ignis' eyes met the glaive's, affording him a brief moment of explanation while he tried to keep his unmitigated horror from manifesting itself outwardly._

 _The glaive (Ignis likely could have put a name to his face, had he not been so appalled and distracted at the moment) reached into his coat and withdrew some folded papers. "Some documents retrieved at the extraction site," he said, handing them over. "I don't know who's been assigned tonight's case file, but if these hold relevance, please see they're submitted."_

 _Ignis could faintly detect the glaive's attempt at concealing his own apparent over-anxiousness. He wondered when the glaives had become aware of the identity of their stow-away..._

 _"All photos of the target retrieval will have already synced with the secure server," the glaive briefly explained further._

 _Ignis barely offered a terse nod before accepting the papers and quickly brushing past him. He disregarded the information as quickly as the glaive had shared it. He had only one concern bombarding his thoughts at the moment—one realization threatening to crack his impenetrable composure. And that was the fact that Noct was there—had been there the entire time—aiding in the infiltration of an_ imperial base.

 _He didn't notice the way his breath sharpened, or how his hands tensed to fists as he strode directly towards the waiting black vehicle up ahead..._

He came back to the present, willing the renewed flush of terror to stay somewhat at bay. This was not yet the time to relive the previous night. Not yet the time to fully realize how close Noct could have potentially come to falling into ene—

He stopped himself, forcing his thoughts to move elsewhere.

Bag balanced on his lap, Ignis pulled his phone out, hesitating. He...had no desire to look. He was never one for morbid curiosity. But he knew it would be vital to be informed on every aspect of the night's events, regardless of his inability to view them objectively for the time being. He would have to grin and bear it.

He logged into the secure server. The glaive's photos would have uploaded to its "cloud" as soon as they were taken. They would be moved to their classified case file before the day was out, but for now they were on display for whomever had the proper authority access into the citadel's intel server.

Ignis navigated the application warily before locating a series of sinister-looking thumbnails with the appropriate time and date stamps. He reluctantly tapped the first photo.

An unconscious Prompto, arms spread and secured, hung limply in...Ignis stiffened. It was obviously a torture device. Noctis, back to the camera, stood frozen, staring up at his best friend, a grim hand reaching nervously for him.

Ignis could hardly afford the scene a moment's longer viewing. Repulsed and rattled, he scrolled to the next image.

Prompto still limply bound. Noct firmly grasping at a cuff, the desperation behind his futile tugging fully evident, despite the suspended single frame shot.

Swipe.

Noctis knocked to his seat, arms enveloping the newly-freed Prompto as he cushioned his fall.

Swipe.

Prompto motionless on the ground, Noct kneeling beside, forehead bowed across his chest, hands wringing a forearm in an unmistakable plea for assurance that his friend was truly there—had truly been recovered.

Ignis slowly lowered his phone, a faint sort of queasiness roiling inside him. He couldn't help vaguely wondering which of the two boys had undergone the more traumatic experience that night—the boy that had been captured, or the other whom had witnessed it and blamed himself. It could very well have been sixes.

The possibility of torture had been brought up when Prompto had been admitted to the medical ward, but Ignis had assumed the glaives were merely being over-cautious when they had mentioned it. His stomach gave another unpleasant turn. Why on _earth_ would they have tortured a civilian...? A minor, no less. What could they have ever hoped to gain, and when did aimless acts of cruelty become the empire's main method of operation?

A renewed rush of anger and pity flooded Ignis as his gaze fell again upon Prompto.

The empire seemed to be slowly and steadily losing its grip on whatever meager amount of sense it ever possessed. He gave a mild shake of his head, hoping his indignant resentment would subside a measure.

Setting his phone aside, Ignis reached into his bag and retrieved the glaive's documents. Curious if they would hold any relevance for the mission's case file, he unfolded them, holding them up.

It appeared to be a printout of a file of some sort, although it was unlikely the imperials would have had anything significant to note on Prompto in the short time they'd held him. He skimmed it briefly.

 _...What is this...?_

It was indeed a printout of a subject's file. A subject enrolled in a program called the Deathless Project. He immediately went from briefly skimming to carefully scanning every detail on the page.

STATUS: INACTIVE...Subject MISSING and/or presumed DECEASED  
Deathless Project  
Unit#: 05953234  
Model ID#: NH-01987

SCNT: Successful  
Embryo creation date: Jan. 18, M.E. 735  
Paternal gene donor: Verstael Besithia  
Maternal gene donor: —  
Artificial gestational period: 280 days  
Incubation completion date: Oct. 25, M.E. 735

Phase One processing initiation date: Jan. 25, M.E. 736

Plasmodium injection round 1 - two 2.5mL carpules 33.3% plasmo, 1:50,000 epi  
Date: Jan. 25, M.E. 736  
Site: R femoral region  
Adverse reactions: colic, vomiting, diarrhea, loss of appetite, insomnia  
Notes: No noteworthy changes observed in subject thus far.

Plasmodium injection round 2 - two 2.5mL carpules 33.3% plasmo, 1:50,000 epi  
Date: Feb. 8, M.E. 736  
Site: R femoral region  
Adverse reactions: severe colic, administration site hematoma, lethargy, vomiting, diarrhea, loss of appetite  
Notes: No noteworthy changes observed in subject thus far.

...

...

...

The rest of the information continued in a similar manner until the data cut off at round 22 of Phase One. The notes of the last entry stating, "Subject continues to exhibit significant resistance to plasmodium tx in comparison to like units. Progress deemed too minimal/limited in view of comparable units. Decommission eval: Favorable."

 _What...in Bahamut's name...is this?_

Was this...in all actuality insinuating the empire had...experimented on human babies? Human... _clone_ babies?

After everything that had transpired in the past seventy-two plus hours, Ignis didn't think it was possible to descend to an entirely new level of consternation. Yet, there he found himself, not only despondent over Noct's actions, but now altogether sickened and thoroughly disturbed at the prospect of this new revelation.

A lingering question at the back of his mind suddenly clambered to the forefront.

 _How does this relate to Prompto...?_

It was with a thickly welling sense of dread that Ignis turned his gaze once more on the sleeping youth. And it was then that his eyes fell upon something he'd never noticed before. No, something he'd never _seen_ before.

He slowly drew to his feet, leaning towards the younger man as his unfounded dread grew. He didn't know why he was so certain something was amiss. Bending down, he reached for Prompto's slender wrist, lifting it to examine the strange black mark found there. He lightly rubbed his thumb across it.

A...tattoo?

...Of a barcode?

A barcode with a serial number.

 _NH-01987._

The steady beat of the nearby monitor was suddenly inaudible over the sound of Ignis' own pulse.

What...What in the Almighty Six did this all mean...?

His thoughts were reeling so tumultuously, he almost didn't notice Prompto shifting beneath him.

Hardly aware of his surroundings, Ignis released Prompto's arm, willing his dwindling composure to stay within his grasp. Prompto was waking, and he'd need a solid presence nearby to ease him through it.

Pushing his horrified bewilderment as much to the side as he could for the time being, Ignis forced himself to straighten, focusing on the waking boy before him.

It was still Prompto. He was still the boisterous, warmhearted best friend of Noctis' Ignis had come to know and value over the last several years. But there was now such a pressing perplexity behind his familiar exterior, it was almost as if Ignis was suddenly looking at a stranger.

And to think only minutes earlier Ignis hadn't thought he could possibly deal with more internal questions to sort through. Now he didn't even know where to _begin._ And while he knew he was quite adept at maintaining a solid poker face when the need called, Ignis wasn't certain if he could fully downplay the apprehension and confusion that had quickly and entirely enveloped him.

He needed answers.

The beeping monitor increased its tempo as Prompto weakly stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked slowly, awareness gradually coming back to him.

Ignis watched as the slow and steady beeping continued to gain speed as Prompto fought through the fog that must have been clinging heavily to him.

A sudden gasp and a hindered spasm of movement as Prompto attempted to sit up with a jolt. The heart-rate monitor metronome took an immediate leap from adagio to allegro.

Ignis was at his side, calm hands leaning in to rest on Prompto's shoulder, his forehead, gently pressing him back.

"You're all right, Prompto," Ignis said evenly, hoping to mollify Prompto's panic as quickly and easily as he could. "You're safe now."

Prompto flinched beneath his touch, his darting eyes and gasping breaths running rampant for a moment longer before Ignis' announced presence finally appeared to register with him. His eyes locked with Ignis', and the recognition of a familiar face set his breath escaping him in a fleeting sigh of disbelief.

"Iggy..." his voice wasn't much more than a whisper, as his head dropped back against the pillow, eyes slipping shut in relief.

"You're in the medical wing of the citadel," Ignis explained, stepping back and righting himself. "Safe in Insomnia," he added, hoping the knowledge would quell any lingering fear.

Prompto took several deep breaths, the heart-rate monitor still beeping out a frantic pace, before blinking his eyes open once more, fixing them on the ceiling.

Ignis could only imagine the assault of frightening thoughts tumbling through the blond's recollection at that moment. Prompto squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing sharp and jarring.

"Prompto..." Ignis laid a consoling hand on Prompto's arm, imploring him to rejoin the present and stay there with him.

Prompto didn't re-open his eyes just yet. "What...H-how...How did I get here...?"

Ignis turned briefly to draw his chair nearer to Prompto's side. When he seated himself, Prompto's eyes had found the ceiling once more, seemingly unwilling to meet Ignis' gaze.

"The glaives recovered you. Early this morning."

Prompto's eyes slowly found his. "The...glaives?" he breathed out, disbelieving.

Ignis offered an affirming nod. There was no need to mention Noct's involvement; it would only needlessly add further distress to the situation. Although it was likely Prompto would eventually find out, it wouldn't be from Ignis.

Prompto's head sank into his pillow once more, a wash of guilt evident on his face. He probably hadn't expected his disappearance to cause such a stir.

Ignis pursed his lips slightly, unsurprised that Prompto would exhibit immediate feelings of self-reproach. Ignis wanted to admonish him, but he refrained.

He also refrained from allowing any hint of the disturbing revelation from creeping to the forefront of his mind. It could skirt along the edges, but he did not want to allow Prompto picking up on any hint of it for now. He vaguely wondered what Prompto even knew of the unsettling situation, himself...

A fleeting recollection of Prompto's frantic call the previous day—his suspicions of being tracked by the imperials—suddenly came back to Ignis. So, Prompto must have known at least something of the matter... But then, how could he not, being constantly reminded by the physical branding he bore (and meticulously kept hidden) every day of his life?

And suddenly it made sense. Prompto indeed had to have known he had a connection to the imperial military of some sort. At least enough to know or suspect that something may have been implanted in him as a child. Something that presumably could be traceable. He'd been safe inside Insomnia's wall all these years, and Ignis wondered if Prompto had always had a vague idea that leaving the city could potentially be dangerous for him?

"Are...are you okay, Iggy?"

Ignis internally chided himself for letting his thoughts get away from him. Prompto had been studying him without his realizing. He forced a mild scoff, somewhat thrown by the question. "Am I okay?" he repeated, emphasis on the 'I.'

"You don't look so good," Prompto explained.

Ignis raised a mildly amused eyebrow, any traces of 'stranger' vanishing from Prompto's visage. This was certainly indeed the 'others-always-come-first' Prompto he'd always known.

"I can only imagine any complaints I may be harboring at the moment only pale in comparison to yours." Ignis stated. And then added, "How are you feeling, Prompto?"

Prompto's gaze turned forward once more. "Oh, uh," he attempted a nervous laugh, likely an unsuccessful bid at trying to make light of his current situation: laid up in an in-patient bed. "I'm—I'm okay..." He tried pushing himself higher against his pillows, but immediately appeared to think better of it.

He must have been considerably sore, Ignis observed. They...they likely had indeed tortured him...

Ignis inhaled tightly through his nose, his anger flaring up momentarily once more.

Prompto appeared to have suddenly noticed the sensors taped to his chest in his movement. A look of revulsion flickered across his face, and he immediately grabbed for one.

Ignis stopped him, reaching over to gently grip his hand before he could tear the wire away. "Please leave them for now."

Prompto sent Ignis a questioning look.

"They're wanting to monitor and record your cardiovascular activity for at least twenty-four hours, I believe." Ignis explained, referring to the ward's medical staff.

"Why?" Prompto asked, confused.

Ignis drew back, hesitating. He wasn't certain how to put it lightly, and he didn't want to cause Prompto further distress by bringing it up. "It was...made mention you may have endured injury involving electric shock..."

Prompto stiffened.

Ignis tried his best to gloss over the discomfort they both felt at its mention. "They informed me earlier everything looks normal, but they're merely wanting to err on the side of caution that your heart's in as good of shape as always," he added, hoping he hadn't alarmed the youth too much.

Prompto seemed to withdraw into himself a measure. He stared down at his sheet, fiddling with it idly while his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

Ignis watched him carefully for a moment. "Prompto," he began. "I know you've been through a harrowing ordeal in the last twenty-four hours," he explained. "And I hate to attempt this so soon after you've awoken, but I regretfully don't have an over-abundance of time today..." Ignis paused a moment, gauging Prompto's response before continuing. "I'd like to discuss what transpired since your abduction yesterday...If that's agreeable to you?"

Prompto continued fingering his sheet for a long moment. He finally offered a reluctant nod.

"If it's too difficult to talk about, I understand," Ignis assured him. "But I would really appreciate your effort at attempting to answer my questions."

Prompto again gave a subtle nod, clearly wishing he could be elsewhere.

Ignis decided they may as well get right to it. This wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation no matter how or when it was presented. "Did...did the imperials indeed interrogate you?"

Again, Prompto stared down for a long moment. Again, he responded with a faint nod.

"Using electrical methods of torture?"

Another delayed and subtle nod.

Ignis' lips formed a tight line. His chest seemed to tighten. He went on, "What...were they seeking to learn from you? Surely they didn't torment you with no purpose in mind?" He wouldn't have put it past them if they had.

Again, Prompto took a long measure to respond. He clearly was not up for having to relive the experience so soon. If ever. And Ignis felt sorry for urging him.

"They...wanted information on the crystal..." Prompto said softly.

Ignis' brow creased slightly. "The crystal? Why would they suspect you know anything about that, I wonder?"

Prompto took his time again, likely trying his best to recall the questions, when undoubtedly what stood out most in his recollection was the pain. "They...discovered I had ties to Noct..."

What? How? Ignis' brow creased further, and he kept his immediate questions to himself in hopes Prompto would continue.

"They asked my name...looked up my school records or something...I dunno..."

Ignis again remained silent.

"They wanted to know if I'd been inside the citadel...If I'd ever seen the crystal or knew where it was kept..."

Brow still fully furrowed in confusion, Ignis asked, "They suspected you had ties to Noct after learning your name alone...?" He quickly made a mental note to bring it up with security later. Ignis nearly winced at the sudden realization that Noct's fears from the previous night had in fact not been unfounded.

"Well...they initially suspected I had ties to the citadel because I was wearing one of Gladio's official royal crest wrist ban—" He suddenly cut off, eyes widening as they fell to his right arm. He scrambled briefly, immediately fumbling with the sheet as he hastily wrapped both arms in it, creating a small bundle in his lap.

Ignis watched him sympathetically for a moment. He hated doing this. He did. But they were already into it now—he may as well rip the rest of the metaphorical bandaid off.

Ignis released a regretful sigh. Leaning forward, he carefully unraveled the sheet from the younger man's arms. He felt Prompto immediately tense beneath him. He lightly grasped Prompto's right arm, rotating it straight to clearly reveal what Prompto had always so painstakingly kept hidden from the world.

Prompto was completely frozen, and Ignis may have imagined it, but he could have sworn the nearby monitor skipped a beat.

"Prompto," Ignis said softly, apologetically. "What do you know of this?"

Prompto pulled his wrist away, left hand coming up to immediately shield it as his head bowed. He closed his eyes, forehead resting against the offending appendage in apparent humiliation and disgrace.

A heavy note of remorse laced Ignis' voice. "Forgive me for calling attention to it, and please understand that I'm asking first and foremost out of friendship and concern for you." He paused before adding, "Anything you're able and willing to share will be given in confidence."

Prompto sat there for a long time, his features locked in a permanent wince behind his arms. Ignis waited, silent and rueful.

After several moments of prolonged disquiet, Prompto finally removed his arms, dropping them to his lap with a resigned sigh. Once again, he struggled and failed to meet Ignis' eyes before beginning. "I'm not...originally from Lucis." It seemed painful for him to get out. "I was...born in Nifleheim..." His voice cracked faintly on the words, and he struggled to clear his throat. "I was adopted by my Lucian parents when I was a year old..." He paused, his eyes drawing to the abhorrent brand on his wrist. He gestured faintly, "I guess...the imperial military was doing some sort of...unethical experimentation on children..." He trailed off a moment. "I...I was one of them..." He took a shaky breath and ran an unsteady hand along his brow. "That's...all I really know, and I don't think my parents know too much more about it, either." He took another strained breath. "They once told me, because of my...marking...it could potentially be dangerous for me outside the wall—if anyone in the imperial military ever happened to notice it...or if there happened to be anything...traceable in me..." he paused, seemingly sickened at the thought, before offering a short, humorless laugh. "Which...turned out to be the case." Another drawn out pause. "That's why I called you... That's why...that's why I was too scared to stay with Noct...Too scared I may have been putting him at risk..." He let his head bow once more, eyes slipping shut dismally.

Ignis stayed quiet for a long time afterwards, staring at the folded papers on his lap. So it was true, then. The subject described in the disconcerting documents was indeed Prompto.

"Iggy...?" Prompto was looking at him, all apprehension and dread at Ignis' lack of response. "You...you don't seem particularly surprised."

Surprised? Initially. Very much so. But, the surprise had since given way to a deep, perturbed uneasiness. He wondered if the empire's actions would ever be capable of surprising him again after this discovery.

Ignis cleared his throat, once again reining his attention back to the present. He wanted to ease Prompto's dismay as much as he was capable. "Prompto," he began steadily, "I'm not going to say much on the matter, because apart from the recent misfortune that befell you, I don't find it particularly consequential." He continued. "One's place of birth has never held rightful cause for shame or guilt, nor has it ever had any bearing on the merit of one's character."

Prompto blinked at him and Ignis reached into his jacket, retrieving a handkerchief. He wound the cloth into a strip before lightly grasping the younger man's wrist and carefully tying it in place. "I would urge you not to let this in anyway define you, or allow it to burden you more than it already has." He finished tying the knot, and Prompto merely stared at it, seemingly completely thrown by Ignis' unexpected kindness.

Prompto finally somewhat found his voice. "...How...how long have you known?" he asked softly.

"Only shortly before you woke. Some documents were retrieved at the site of your rescue...A file detailing your prior time in the empire's custody."

Prompto slowly looked to him. Ignis couldn't tell if a hesitant _...And?_ was going to follow. He wouldn't blame Prompto for asking. And conversely, he wouldn't blame him if he chose to never ask at all. But in all honesty, Ignis hoped Prompto didn't ask. It was a conversation that should perhaps be saved for when Prompto was a little older.

Prompto only offered a faint nod. It was clear he didn't really want to ask his next question. "...Who else knows...?"

"No one, as far as I know," Ignis replied honestly. "Although, I suspect there may be some classified intel regarding the subject that I have never been privy to before now."

 _...Are you going to tell Noct?_ Ignis could practically hear the unspoken question hanging in the air. He contemplated a moment before offering, "Your personal history is yours to share, when and with whom you choose."

Prompto seemed to relax against his pillows in endless relief and gratitude, before suddenly seeming taken by surprise that he hadn't even inquired about his best friend yet. "How is Noct?" he asked anxiously.

Ignis nearly faintly smirked at Prompto's true-to-form subject-hopping. They had just been discussing the darkest secret of his life, and a split second later, here he was, filled with concern for his best friend, his own angst all but forgotten. Ignis couldn't help hesitating another beat before answering. "He's...safe," he decided on sharing. "And he should be able to breathe a little easier now that you've been recovered."

Prompto's eyebrows raised a touch, questioning.

"You had him...considerably worried." Ignis explained, not wanting to divulge much more than that.

Prompto suddenly released a short breath. "Ugh, I forgot he's probably going to kill me for the whole knocking-him-out thing." He winced.

Ignis watched him for a moment, debating on what more to divulge. "Prompto, it's likely you won't see or hear from Noct for a bit," he explained.

Prompto looked to him. Again, questioning.

"I'm sure you can understand," well, to a certain extent, at least. Prompto knew nothing of Noct's more serious infractions, "that Noct is in a fairly considerable amount of trouble for his actions."

Prompto looked back to his lap. "Oh. Right..."

"I'm certain he'll be in touch as soon as he's able, but I believe his phone and other various possessions have been confiscated for now."

Prompto nodded faintly, clearly feeling for his friend.

The conversation lulled for several moments. Ignis watched the younger man briefly, deciding now might be a good stopping point to allow him some rest.

"You should continue to rest for now," Ignis advised. "Although, I should inform you that Cor and perhaps a couple other officials will be in to ask you a few questions at some point this morning."

He noticed Prompto's fingers immediately stop fidgeting for a moment.

"Just answer to the best of your ability. Try not to get too worked up over it."

"Will I...will I have to tell them about...?"

Ignis glanced at his handkerchief looped about the boy's wrist. "Not if it's too distressing for you..." he assured him. And after a moment, he hesitantly added, "Prompto, I'm going to hold to my promise of confidence. But, I hope you'll forgive me, the marshal is one person I will have to tell..."

Speak of the devil. Cor chose that moment to open the door, glancing inside. "Ignis? A moment, if you don't mind."

Ignis straightened. "I'll be right there, Marshal," he said, as Cor retreated to linger outside the door.

Ignis hesitated a beat. "One last thing before I go," he said. "If it wouldn't be too troublesome an inconvenience...I'd like to request some thorough blood work be performed on you, as well as magnetic resonance imaging."

"...Magnetic...what?" Prompto asked, his brow pinching together.

"MRI scans," Ignis explained. He went on, "Just to be certain your overall health hasn't been compromised in any significant way due to the empire's...offenses." Previous and recent.

"That's...fine, I guess," Prompto agreed, though he sounded more than a little uncertain.

"And...if the scans do pick up anything that might be considered 'traceable,' as you seemed to suspect...it might be in your best interest to have it removed."

Prompto sat unmoving for a long moment. His nod was almost unnoticeable.

Ignis stood, stifling a stretch as he shouldered his bag. A ghost of a hand lingered on Prompto's knee for a brief moment, and Ignis was turning for the door.

"Ignis," Prompto said abruptly, causing Ignis to pause at the door. He turned.

"...Thank you." Prompto's voice had regained a touch of its former life as he said it. The deep gratitude lurking behind its simplicity was not lost on Ignis, as he nodded briefly and left the room.

He softly closed the door behind him and turned to face the marshal.

"How's the kid?" Cor asked, nodding faintly towards the door.

"All things considered," Ignis responded, "he's not in too terrible of shape."

"Good. That's good to hear." Cor crossed his arms. "I need to speak with him, but I also came to find you," he explained. "Gladio requested an audience with the council this morning...They should be convening within the next hour or two."

Ignis' jaw tightened imperceptibly. Of course he had. Gladio was not one for waiting.

"Your presence will be expected as well," Cor stated.

Ignis was careful not to put any hint of feeling behind his nod of response.

Cor nodded as well, and Ignis detected a subtle offering of condolences behind it. He was about to turn towards the door when Ignis interrupted him.

"Marshal," Ignis said, quickly debating with himself how exactly to handle this.

Cor turned back to him.

Ignis lowered his voice. "...What do you know of the Deathless Project...?"

It took a brief moment, but there it was. The faintest flicker of recognition. Though Cor hadn't even moved. "...Why do you ask?"

Ignis paused a moment. Then he lifted his hand, offering the folded papers.

Cor watched Ignis briefly as he accepted the papers, flipping them open with his wrist. He scanned the offered documents quickly and succinctly, then raised a questioning look back to Ignis.

"Those were retrieved by the glaives' extraction team last night." Ignis said. He paused, his voice unintentionally softening. "The subject in question is Prompto."

Cor's brows raised at that. He looked back to the papers, scanning again.

Ignis watched him closely, attempting to be subtle about it. Cor's gaze seemed to drift beyond the paper for a moment, to somewhere far distant.

Then Cor released a short breath through his nose, a muscle twitching at his mouth.

Was that a hint of a smile...?

"...Marshal?" Ignis questioned.

Cor quickly came back to the present, eyes still on the paper. "I always wondered what became of the little guy, after he was deemed safe for adoption...He was such a little fighter..." His gaze finally rose to meet Ignis' confusion. "I was involved in the mission that saw his rescue as an infant."

Ignis stared at him. "...You're suggesting we knew?" he asked. "That we've _known_ about this...this _project_ for nearly twenty years?"

Cor didn't exactly nod. "It's strictly classified, and gathering further intel over the years has proven mostly unsuccessful, but we've had a vague idea of the empire's atrocities..."

"And...done _nothing?_ " It was very rare for Ignis to let his disbelief on a matter fully manifest itself. "Marshal, they are experimenting on human _children._ "

This time Cor did offer a faint grave nod. "It is despicable," he agreed.

"Then why... Why haven't we...?"

"What exactly would you suggest we do, Ignis? Take the fight directly to them? Release the information to the public for their input? Politely ask them to cease and desist?" Ignis could tell the marshal was stifling a scoff. "No, Ignis. Don't pretend to be unaware of just how backed into a corner the empire's had us for the past thirty years—because I know you're not..." he trailed off before letting his frustrations get the better of him. He continued a shred more calmly. "There is, unfortunately, nothing more we can do apart from continued covert efforts, and gritting our teeth in outrage." He went on further, "If we brought their outright hostility upon us, our military would be outmatched. If the public found out, there would be an uproar and a call for all-out warfare, and again, we'd find ourselves outmatched. And negotiations are always one-sided, we hold absolutely no upper hand in any—" he cut off abruptly. It was clear the subject was a source of great agitation and grief for the captain of the crownsguard.

The marshal took a breath, composing himself. "I'm sorry, Ignis," he said. "Please...just...speak of this to no one." He handed the papers back. "And see these get the proper classified filing." He turned for the door, but paused, his hand on the handle.

"It is ironic though, isn't it? One of their own, born solely for the purpose of aiding in our destruction, ending up as one of the closest supporters and confidants of our own prince..."

He turned the handle and entered Prompto's room.

Ignis stood staring after him.

* * *

 **A/N- Ugh, this chapter, guys...I don't even want to talk about it. Like seriously, what was I thinking attempting to take on an Ignis POV?**

 **I disliked this chapter in the writing phase, I disliked this chapter in the editing phase, and here I am in the posting phase—still greatly disliking this chapter, lol. It was just such a biotch to write. I could sit here and attempt to tweak it all day, but no matter what, I'm just not going to be pleased with the end result. So, I'm just going to go ahead and get it out of the way so we can get back to Noct.**

 **My sweet little Nocty, please forgive me for ever straying from your narrative. I promise it will never happen again!**

 **Let's see, I guess I'll go ahead and note a few things. So, I always thought it would make for interesting headcanon if Ignis was actually in the know with Prompto all along. The way he was so quick to dismiss the revelation in the game—merely offering an assuring, "I don't see you turning against us, now or ever..." I dunno, he was just so immediately accepting of Prompto, and he has such a vast amount of compassion lurking directly under all the stoicism—I just couldn't not write this chapter without my slight AU twist to it. (Shandra, the "stupidly delicate balance between stoicism and compassion" was—gah—the most accurate and beautiful description of writing Ignis ever.)**

 **The documents given to Ignis were printed off the computer by the baddies in chapter 8. If you guys needed a refresher on that.**

 **Also, I couldn't resist touching on the whole Cor and Prompto fanon backstory. A cliche, but such a wonderful cliche. I just love those fics.**

 **Hmm, I guess that's all I can really think to say. I'm sorry about the never-ending length of this chapter as well. I don't know why it wouldn't end. I just struggled so much with the dialogue between Ignis and Prompto, and I felt like they just had...way too much to say.**

 **If you guys ended up hating this chapter marginally less than I did, please let me know, lol. I'm feeling very self-conscious over it, but I'm really trying to stick to my tri-weekly update schedule, so I've just got to wash my hands of this infernal chapter and get it posted.**

 **Thanks for taking the time to read! Oh, and, oh my gosh, I almost forgot to thank you guys so much for your feedback on the last chapter! When pretty much the entire day passed without any feedback, I was thinking, "Welp, I completely missed the mark with a Gladio POV, yikes." But you guys came back and actually approved of my bumbling attempt at writing one of "the other two." I was so grateful, so, thank you.**

 **EDIT: So, after posting and re-reading through this chapter with an open mind, I'm happy to say I don't hate it as much as I initially did. I still think I really struggled to capture Ignis, but I'm really thankful for your guys' approval so far.**


	14. Chapter 14

Noct spent the afternoon alone in his room with absolutely nothing to do but wait. And when evening finally rolled around, he found himself still alone, still waiting.

He knew it was only a matter of patience until someone (Ignis) finally showed up to put an end to his uncertain loneliness. Locked away with no news, no contact with anyone, had probably, in all honesty, been one of the worst parts of the last three days. The isolation was almost cruel in how discarded it made him feel. He couldn't help wondering if that was intentional on their part. Or had the council simply not yet decided how exactly to deal with him?

Why hadn't anyone come? How much trouble was he actually in? Did they seriously expect him to "rest" all day? How was Prompto? When had he awoken? Were they taking good care of him? What sort of medical attention did he require? Had they made him recount everything yet?

Noct winced to himself, feeling more than sorry he couldn't be there with his friend to ease the aftermath of the whole ordeal. The entire mess had been his fault, and all he could do now was sit around and lament the fact he couldn't even see Prompto yet. Couldn't tell him how sorry he was for dragging him outside the city. ...And how upset he was at him for recklessly ditching him and putting himself in harm's way.

Noct had an idea that Ignis had perhaps decided to spend the bulk of the day in the medical wing, and that was the reason for his absence. Deciding that had to be it, he gave Ignis an immediate pass. Prompto surely needed Ignis' presence more than he did at the moment. And since he couldn't be there himself, Noct likely would have requested Ignis go in his stead anyway.

Noct sighed. He sat. He paced. He stared at his school materials (not being able to focus long enough to actually study). He tried to keep his thoughts from wandering too far, but they did. Of course they did.

He had a passing glimpse of Prompto restrained and wired into that vile imperial contraption. Noct wasn't stupid. As much as he wanted to stay in denial, he knew Prompto had...more than likely...been tortured.

He grimaced, his insides tensing. It was painful to admit. And beyond admitting it, it was too distressing to dwell on further.

 _Why?_ Why was he taken? What backwards reasoning could the empire possibly attempt to justify it by? And...what exactly had been done to him?

He set his teeth, his anger suddenly giving way to fear.

What if Prompto's health was actually compromised more than he was aware, and no one had yet worked up the nerve to tell him?

He swallowed.

What if he had required extensive surgery to treat any hidden internal trauma that may have occurred? Was that why Ignis had been away so long? Had Ignis been lingering in a waiting room all day, anxiously watching for Prompto's status to update from 'critical' to 'stable?' And everyone was afraid to tell Noct because they knew he'd lose it?

Noct pinched his eyes shut, trying to calm his hastening breathing. He certainly wasn't doing himself any favors by letting his imagination get away from him. God, he just wished someone would give him an update.

As difficult as it was, he forced himself to stop assuming the worst about Prompto and move his thoughts elsewhere.

Perhaps Ignis' absence was for an entirely different reason. Perhaps Ignis was so upset with him, he'd simply told the staff he was going home for now, and he wouldn't be back until Noct was "ready to behave like an adult."

Noct flinched.

And maybe the council was aware how badly Noct hated confinement—how much it got to him—and had decided his isolation was the perfect punishment for his misdeeds. What if no one was ever coming for him again?

Noct scrubbed at his face, hating his inevitable tendency of working himself up more than was necessary. It was that same self-destructive habit that got him into all this trouble in the first place.

What else could be expected though? Could there possibly be a more anxiety-inducing scenario than being locked up, ignored, and left alone with wary uncertainties of his friends' well-being?

He stifled a disheartened sigh and went back to his school books, willing his stream of thought to give in to the distraction.

Dinnertime finally approached and Noct found his hopes leaping in the certain expectation that Ignis would finally be around with a meal. His high hopes took an immediate tumble, however, when in place of Ignis, it was a member of the kitchen staff that arrived at his door with a tray of food.

Noct could hardly work up a muttered thanks in his disappointment as he accepted it.

He crossed the room, setting the tray on his coffee table with an unceremonious clatter. He sat, prodding at the food with disinterest, the ever-growing sense of dejection inching closer to overwhelming him.

Was he really such an afterthought? Such an inconvenience? Was he really that troublesome a burden that the entire citadel staff had neither the know-how or desire to deal with him?

He poked at the plate of food again, his stomach churning.

He supposed the solitude was better than having to immediately face the imminent lectures from Gladio or his father. Wasn't it? But why were they keeping Ignis from him? There was definitely something more going on than Ignis being preoccupied by tending to Prompto.

 _...Unless Prompto is actually dying and they just don't know how to tell me._

Gah, he needed to stop that.

Shoving the tray of food away, he abruptly drew to his feet and made straight for his bed, not caring in the least how early it might be. He was irritated and done with waiting. Done with worrying. Done with being forgotten. And...he was tired.

He curled up, pulling the covers close and trying vainly not to let his last thoughts before sleep be about how much everything sucked.

* * *

When Noct's eyes slipped open again, he was more than surprised to find his room lit by a new morning. Or mid-morning, maybe. Whether intentional or not, he'd slept through dinner and right on through the entire night.

He blinked at his ceiling, the fuzziness of waking clearing more quickly than usual. His mind and body were grateful for the rest.

He stretched to his limits, thankful to be done with the previous day. Being trapped alone in his room had made for the most pointless and aggravating day of his life. Sure, Noct may have admittedly thrived on the occasional chance of getting to do nothing. But not when it was forced on him. Never when it was forced on him.

A sudden tinkling of silverware sounded across the way, and Noct sat up immediately, following its direction. _Ignis—Finally!_

But it wasn't Ignis that met Noct's gaze across the room. Noct started, not recognizing the figure standing over his coffee table. He automatically drew his sheet close, more than startled by the presence of a stranger in his bedroom.

"Apologies, Your Highness," the young man quickly offered, a restrained nervousness bordering his voice. He bowed briefly. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Oh, Noct realized, immediately dispirited. It was only a staff member, come to deliver breakfast. Or brunch, or whatever. His shoulders slumped.

Surprisingly though, the young man didn't immediately book it out of there upon seeing the prince awake. He kind of...lingered awkwardly for a moment. It took Noct a second to realize he was working up the nerve to strike a conversation.

"I'm Marcaeus Lorem," he finally announced. "Councilman Lorem's son," he added. "I work in the administrative department, so it's possible you've seen me around before, but it's an honor to officially meet you, Your Highness."

Noct didn't really know how to respond, or why the dude found it necessary to introduce himself. He had no clue who this kid was—wait, scratch that. This must be the "Bore 'Em Lorem" Gladio had mentioned in passing a few times before. Apparently, he was around the same age as Ignis and Gladio, and attempted friendliness with them whenever the opportunity arose. Noct seemed to recall Gladio pinning him as a "politically ambitious square." Gladio usually took a disliking to anyone who thrived on climbing the political ladder. Noct didn't know anything else about him.

Noct didn't necessarily want to come across as rude, but he really had no desire to engage in small talk with an uninvited stranger in his bedroom.

"Ah..."

"I don't expect you to recognize me, of course, but we have crossed paths quite a few times the last several years."

"Mm..." Noct hummed, for lack of anything else to offer. He wasn't sure if he should feel bad for not recognizing him, and he was still confused as to why the kid was hanging around. Couldn't he tell he was making Noct uncomfortable?

And suddenly it dawned on Noct—a realization that seemed to immediately knock the air right out of him.

The guy wasn't there to just drop off a meal.

...

Oh, God.

Noct immediately stiffened as the surrounding walls seemed to close in, the room lurching to a slow spin as it gradually narrowed around him. Noct didn't know it was possible for a heart rate to jump from 'normal' to 'oh, shit' as fast as his just had. Yet despite his hurdling pulse, he could feel his blood steadily draining, all color leaving his face.

"Lorem," Noct ventured tensely, carefully. "...Where's Ignis?"

Lorem hesitated. And that brief pause was enough to confirm Noct's worst suspicions.

 _No._

"He's...at home, I believe, Your Highness," Lorem responded tentatively.

His next question lodged somewhere in his throat, and it took Noct considerable effort to get it out. "...Why?"

But he knew why. He knew goddamn well why. Ignis would never stay away this long by choice. Ignis would never shirk his responsibilities like this by choice. Ignis would never "go home" by choice...

No. He'd been asked to leave. Told to leave.

Noct's chest couldn't decide whether to clench or heave, and it was painful the way it fought between the two.

It was because of him. It was all because of him. How had he—how had the possibility never even occurred to him... They wouldn't—they couldn't _seriously_ have placed blame on Ignis—?

Noct's insides twisted and seized and he felt suddenly lightheaded.

"...Your Highness?" Lorem's voice was timid.

A long moment passed before Noct somewhat found his voice. "Lorem..." Noct willed the room to stop spinning long enough for him to ask. "...Why are you here?"

Lorem seemed a little nervous to answer. "I'm...I'm going to be attending to you—"

No.

No no no no no.

Noct barely managed to cast his covers aside before he was on his feet and heading out his door. He didn't even notice if there were still guards stationed there, and when no one made a move or comment to stop him, he didn't offer a backwards glance.

He was hardly aware of the various wide-eyes he drew as he strode through the halls of the citadel—hardly noticed how quickly they diverted in fear he might make eye contact. His bare feet and lounge wear, made all the more odd by his frantic pace, were enough to ensure all puzzled passers-by maintained a wide berth around him.

His breaths were cutting, and the tight set of his jaw sent a muscle jumping in his cheek as he ignored the uncomfortable warmth already gathering behind his eyes.

He arrived at the council room's doors, not even pausing a beat before flinging them open.

The marble-coated room was tall and grand, and the distinct union between its dark tones and bright natural lighting had always been appealing to Noct. There was nothing appealing about the room today, however.

Every figure in the room—some seated at the long, stately table, others standing nearby, conversing in pairs—paused mid-sentence to turn at the sound of the intrusion.

Several of the councilmen straightened, surprised. "Prince Noctis," one of them said, startled. "I...don't believe we sent for you yet...?"

Noct stepped into the room. He could feel their eyes on him—every scrutinizing gaze—sizing him up, lingering on his sweatpants, his disheveled hair, his firm jaw and high-strung demeanor.

They could judge all they wanted. He didn't care.

"Where's Ignis?"

The few councilmen who had been seated were now drawing to their feet in befuddlement. No one answered him.

"Where is he?" Noct demanded again.

The council members' puzzled gazes slowly wavered before growing stern. It was becoming quickly apparent this was yet another impetuous display of obstinance from the prince.

"Your Highness," one of the men began. "Mister Scientia has returned to his home in the city, where he is hopefully receiving some much needed res—"

"Why?!" Noct wasn't meaning for it to, but he couldn't keep his voice from rising. And not only in decibels, but intensity as well. "Why was he sent away?" he pressed. "Is it because of me?! Was he—Was Ignis dismissed because of _me_ —?" Noct's voice cracked and he immediately cut off.

 _Oh God, don't cry in front of the council. Please don't cry in front of the council._

His breathing was all over the place. Every blink stung. Everyone was staring at him.

His voice was strained and faltering, but he had no choice but to press through it. "Please..." How had it come to pleading already? "Ignis did _nothing_ wrong...It was—It was all me—He didn't even...Ignis didn't even _know_ —" Oh. And therein lay the problem.

How had Noct not realized? How could he not have seen how poorly his actions would reflect on Ignis and Gladio? How had it never even crossed his mind that his success in all his sneaking would equate to a failure on his retainers' part..?

He stood there sputtering. Realizing for the first time ever the full and complete extent of his idiocy.

He felt so..."stupid" didn't even begin to describe the half of it. He felt so small. And he felt so, so sick.

He sat there numbly trying to process everything. He had cost Ignis his position. His devious, selfish, impulsive actions had cost Ignis everything. Ignis would be lost without his duties.

And Noct would be lost without him.

Ignis, who was always there in the morning. Ignis, who was always only five minutes away from a text sent at any given hour. Ignis, who tied his ties, and unfolded his napkins, and gathered his stray dirty socks, and spent an hour painstakingly trimming duct tape out of his hair with an assuring promise it wouldn't be too noticeable. Ignis, who...

Noct almost choked on a stifled sob.

"Please...Please, you can't dismiss him...Ignis gave his life to this job—" _To me._ "Please...you _can't_ —"

Noct suddenly urgently sought out a face. "Councilman Scientia!" he exclaimed upon locating it. "You understand—!" _Don't you?_ "You know how much your nephew sacrificed for his position—" _For me_.

He was floundering. He felt like he was drowning. He didn't know it was possible to drown outside of water. And surrounded by nothing but bewildered stares, there was nothing to save him.

"Noctis." A firm voice echoed through the room, suddenly halting Noct's quickly deteriorating state.

And there was his father. Standing at the opposite doors. Noctis hadn't even noticed when he'd entered.

If Noct had felt small before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. His spasming breaths drew to an immediate stand-still, freezing along with the rest of him. His eyes reluctantly—so reluctantly—drew to meet his father's, and he wasn't sure what his own gaze was offering. Dread? Shame? Remorse? Pleading? A convoluted mixture of all, perhaps? He didn't know.

But his father's gaze was not so complex to decipher. It was rigid and stern and so fraught with disappointment, it took everything in Noct's power not to visibly wince under its weight.

"What is this?" His father was clearly not intent on dealing with further insubordination from the prince.

Noct tried his hardest—he did—but he couldn't maintain his father's gaze. It was too painful. His shame mounted even further as his eyes fell to the floor.

He wanted to plead with his father. Wanted to beg for all he was worth on Ignis' behalf. But the fire inside him had been immediately doused upon seeing his father's face. And his voice had all but abandoned him as well. All that comprised him now was a deep, hopeless dread.

"I believe the plan was to deliberate this morning and send for you this afternoon," his father continued, "but since you seem most insistent on doing this now, then by all means..." His father gestured. "Gentlemen, be seated." Another gesture, as Regis came forward to claim his seat. "Noctis, stand at the head."

Noct couldn't seem to draw his gaze from the floor. He most certainly did not want to do this now, but he'd unintentionally forced their hand by barging in there unannounced. He likely would have attempted some form of restraint if he'd realized this might be a possibility. Disciplinary hearings were usually only ever held in the assembly hall.

"Noctis," his father repeated, all customary patience absent from his voice.

Noct forced his feet to move, closing the too-small gap between himself and the council table. The chair at the head opposite his father was swiftly removed, allowing Noct a space to stand. Stand and face the humiliation.

He hardly noticed the council members shuffling to organize their materials at the announcement of the impromptu hearing. He was glad their eyes had left him for a brief moment. But they would be back—every pair would be glued to him and remain there for as long as this took. Measuring, weighing, judging.

Noct tried to swallow but couldn't. His face felt so heated, he wasn't surprised there was hardly any warmth left for the rest of his body. The iciness of his insides had chilled him through. He was glad he wasn't required to do more than stand there—he wasn't certain he could move if he had to.

He stared at the smooth glossiness of the table, wishing he could lose himself in the darkness of its surface. The gleaming reflection held his eyes, his shame preventing him from looking elsewhere.

His pulse sounded in his ears, slightly dulling the councilman's voice as he commenced reading off an account of all the prince's infractions over the previous four days. It seemed to go on forever. Noct tried not to visibly wince, but there were several instances that saw him grimacing.

Having a list of one's stupidity read to their very face in front of a king and his dignitaries was probably the most uncomfortable position one could find themselves in. If Noct was down on himself before, he all but despised himself by the time they finally arrived at the end.

They went on to explain how he was to spend the next several weeks completing his school work at home instead of attending school. (Noct figured they didn't want anyone questioning him about anything. They were clearly aiming to keep the words "Prince Noctis" and "Imperial Base" from ever appearing in the same article together—let alone, and God forbid, the same headline. And he also knew they just plain didn't trust allowing him outside the citadel walls anytime soon.)

They continued, mentioning how his retainers had been dismissed and would undergo thorough performance reviews. Noct had to blink heavily at how bad that stung. His breathing took up a stacatto rhythm again, and he was so afraid he was going to feel hot trails streaking down his cheeks at any moment, effectively exposing to the council just how badly he was hurting over all this. He couldn't let that happen. Couldn't let them see such a blatant display of weakness.

Noct blinked time and again, refusing to so much as sniff as he retreated further and further into himself. He only caught snippets of what else was said. Something about how they acknowledged and commended his devotion to friendship, but the subsequent risks he'd taken on behalf of his friend were far too grievous to overlook. And how his training was suspended for the time being, and any and all uses of his abilities were forbidden for the foreseeable future.

Finally, a heavy silence replaced the droning voice, and it took Noct a moment to realize the hearing had ended and they were waiting on him. He straightened a measure, his gaze only managing to lift a fraction before he was somewhat able to gather his voice.

"If it please the council, I'll take my leave now," Noct rasped, his voice devoid of anything. He bowed, or rather, inclined his back as much as his halting movements allowed.

He really didn't want to, but he would be too much of a coward if he didn't. So, he forced himself to lock eyes with his father one last time before turning away. There was more there this time, in his father's gaze. More than grim disappointment. There was...it was difficult to say exactly. Remorse? Pity? A trace of tenderness? Noct found himself once again surprised.

Had Gladio spoken the truth? Would his father really let the world burn if it meant keeping his son? Noct might never really know for certain. But there was undoubtedly affection in those penetrating eyes. And Noct almost felt worse for seeing it. He regretted looking. It brought him no consolation.

Noct knew he offered his father little more than apathy and petulance. With the occasional display of disobedience and ingratitude. And yet even so, as those benign eyes bore into him, Noct could see forgiveness settling in amongst the remorse and pity.

And once again Noct felt that familiar hollowing of his insides. What right did he have to his father's forgiveness? He hadn't earned it. He hadn't even had a chance to ask for it. Why should it be so freely offered when so undeserved?

It managed to make Noct feel even worse, if that was possible. He was sick of every entitlement his birth undeservingly afforded him as the crown prince and son of a king. He was sick of disappointing everyone. He was sick of letting everyone down. He was sick of everyone taking the fall for him. He was sick of being him.

If he ever actually managed to climb out of this bottomless shithole he'd dug for himself, he was going to make sure he never found himself in this position again. He was never going to warrant another discipline hearing ever again. He was going to earn his father's affection for once. He was...he was going to fix things for...for...

He was still in stunned denial over the fact...the fact that...Gladio and Ig—Nope. He couldn't do it. Couldn't think about it yet. The tears were still too threatening. And he was still too far from the privacy of his bedroom.

He'd somehow made his way out of the council room without realizing. Bore 'Em Lorem had been waiting for him outside the door. Noct wasn't trying to be particularly cold, but he had no desire to interact with the dude again. Had no desire to even see him—his wannabe Ignis glasses pained him to look at.

Noct ignored him, hoping Lorem wasn't as keen as Ignis. Hoping he didn't notice how red his eyes were, or how hindered his steps seemed. He could feel Lorem fall into step behind him, regardless. Trailing quietly a length behind.

Only when Noct reached a particular intersection of corridors did Lorem finally speak up. "Your Highness. Where are you going?"

Instead of taking the right turn that would eventually lead back to his bedroom, Noct had opted for the left.

He may have inadvertently screwed himself out of the only family he'd ever known. ( _Don't think about Ignis and Gladio. Not now._ ) But there was still one person he could turn to at the moment. One person whose company he needed right then more than ever.

"I'm going to the medical wing," Noct said, half turning to address Lorem. "You...you don't need to accompany me. I'm fine." He was really trying not to be outright rude to the guy. He didn't seem like a bad guy at all, and it wasn't his fault he'd been asked to takeover the position of the closest thing Noct ever had to a brother.

Noct inhaled a stinging breath. _Don't think about Ignis. Don't do it._

"Your Highness," Lorem replied, as Noct was turning to leave. "...Mister Argentum is no longer there."

Noct froze in his tracks. He didn't dare turn back towards Lorem. He was too scared to ask what he meant by that.

On top of everything that day, there _couldn't_ be more bad news. There just couldn't. Noct was already barely holding himself together by a thread.

Lorem seemed to sense Noct's immediate apprehension, because he continued quickly. "He's been transferred to ICH, last I heard."

Noct slowly turned to face Lorem. Prompto had been transferred to Insomnia Central Hospital? ...Why?

He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Had all his worrying earlier actually been warranted? Was there something seriously wrong with Prompto? Oh God, why hadn't anyone told—

"He's okay, Your Highness," Lorem abruptly assured him, clearly picking up on his mounting panic. "He was transferred for some tests and scans that the medical wing isn't equipped for. And there was made mention the possibility of minor surgery, I believe."

Surgery...?

"What's wrong with him?" Noct had to know.

"I believe they expect him to be quite all right, Your Highness. As for the mention of possible surgery, I regrettably don't have more details to share, but I will make them known to you as soon as I learn more on the matter."

Noct nodded slowly. The swift panic had given way to relief, although apprehension still lingered. He would have preferred to see Prompto with his own eyes before accepting any claims that his best friend was indeed recovering normally.

And that apprehensive relief was now quickly giving way to a deep disappointment.

Of course Prompto had been transferred. How silly of Noct to have thought he might actually have had someone to turn to that day.

No, Noct was alone. More alone than he'd ever been.

He numbly turned and headed for his room, hardly aware of his surroundings. He was mildly surprised he didn't bump into anything along the way, with how blindly he drifted.

Upon arriving at his door, Lorem stepped up to open it for him. Noct hadn't really noticed he'd still been following him.

"Are you all ri—" Lorem must have aborted the question, realizing it was stupid to ask. He switched gears. "Is there anything I can do for you, Your Highness?"

Noct offered a subtle shake of his head. "I'd...like to be alone for now," he said softly. He could have almost half-scoffed at that. There actually wasn't anything he'd like less at the moment, but there were only three people Noct wanted with him, and Lorem was not one of them.

Lorem seemed hesitant to let him disappear into his room alone. Perhaps he could tell how on the verge of a breakdown Noct was.

"Your father came to visit you last night," Lorem quickly offered. "After you fell asleep around dinnertime. He didn't want to wake you, but...he sat with you for a long while."

Noct paused on the threshold. He had?

He wasn't sure why Lorem found that information so pertinent for him to know, but he couldn't help feeling a little grateful for the attempt at lessening his all-consuming forlornness.

He turned, trying to offer a small half-smile of gratitude, but he wasn't sure if his lips even twitched.

"Oh! Forgive me, I almost forgot to give this to you." Lorem reached into his jacket, pulling out a folded slip of paper and offering it to Noct. "I'll take my leave now, Your Highness, but please let me know if there's anything you need."

Noct nodded and closed the door behind him.

He stood, pressing his back against the door before unfolding the paper.

A note was hastily scrawled. In Ignis' penmanship.

 _Chin up, Noct. Everything will be all right._

 _-Ignis_

He'd obviously had only a few seconds to write it, but Noct was more grateful for those few words than he'd ever been for anything in his life.

He sagged against his door, following it down to the floor. It was pointless trying to hold back anymore. He couldn't have if he tried.

He cried for a long time.

* * *

 **A/N: So, yeah, this chapter was quite the downer. I mean, I knew these next couple chapters would be, but still... Hopefully you'll bear with me. The more the pain, the better the h/c in the end, right?**

 **I feel like this chapter was on the sloppier side, and I apologize for that. My writing time has been so disjointed and hard to come by these last few weeks, and attempting to write with two toddlers constantly all over the place, just...isn't conducive to good writing, lol. But I'd already taken a week longer than I meant to in getting this chapter out, and I didn't want to push it back further for more re-writing.**

 **I hope you weren't too bothered by how much Noct was zeroed in on Ignis in this chapter. Of course he cares about Gladio, too, and of course he's just as devastated by the trouble he's caused him as well. But Ignis is the one that's always actually there with him, so of course he'd initially feel that loss more prominently.**

 **And I hope you weren't too bugged by the plot-necessary OC. I initially wanted to make Bore 'Em Lorem really snooty and unlikeable to offset how wonderful Ignis is, but I realized it wasn't necessary. The perfection of Ignis can't be threatened by anything, so it didn't matter. And besides, Noct was already having too rough of a time as it was. So, pointless as he is, I decided to make Lorem nice.**

 **The next chapter will deal with more depression and self-loathing on Noct's part. If you guys think a trigger warning might be necessary on chapters like these, please let me know.**

 **I'd love to hear any other thoughts you might have.**

 **Oh, also, did you guys play the latest DLC for XV? ...Does anyone else ship Noct with Sarah way more than Luna? XD**

 **EDIT: If you're reading this chapter after the 16th (of October), please consider commenting! If interest has dropped off significantly, I'm going to consider putting this fic back on hiatus for a while, since I really don't have much time to spare for writing, and I question if the time I do put into it is wasted. I just have a lot of mom guilt associated with it, lol.**

 **Anyways, I'm very grateful for the comments I have received! But if there's only, like, three people reading, then I've just got to put my kids first.**

 **Ever since abandoning this fic last spring, I only picked it up again because a reader asked me very nicely to. So, I will keep trudging at it as long as there's a justifiable amount of interest, but that's really the only thing keeping me going. Thanks, guys!**


	15. Chapter 15

To say the days passed uneventfully and miserably for Noct would be an understatement.

Though no longer confined to his room (the guards had disappeared sometime in the days following his hearing), Noct stayed holed up in there by choice, having little other than his grief to occupy him.

It took Noct about a day of denial before he could finally bring himself to attempt coming to terms with his current situation. He couldn't skirt around it any longer, no matter how much it pained him to think on. He had to face it: He had lost his advisor and his shield. He had lost two of the most important people in his life. Ignis and Gladio had been dismissed. All because of his stupidity.

Ugh, it made his insides tangle in a mess of dread and disgrace.

He was horrified by it. He was sick over it. He had an overwhelming revulsion towards himself because of it.

Two companions had been called to be at his side since childhood—to keep him safe, keep him in line, keep him on the path to becoming a worthy king. Of _course_ his reckless actions would affect them. Why hadn't he paused for just two seconds to realize that?!

He'd taken their positions for granted. Their presence at his side had long ago become so much more than appointed staff. It had become familial. Almost to the point of Noct forgetting on occasion that they were still actual employees of the citadel.

He'd forgotten it wasn't true bonds of blood that bound his "brothers" to him. No, it was contracts. Written contracts, drafted and signed years ago, with conditions, terms and stipulations that Noct could hardly even recall, and had unwittingly caused them to violate.

Of course the shield and advisor of a flighty prince would be called to task for allowing their charge to run loose. To run right into the heart of enemy territory. Inadvertent as the mistake may have been on their part, it was still a mistake. A big one. They hadn't been aware of Noct's schemes. They hadn't stopped him—hadn't kept him safe and in line. Because Noct hadn't realized, hadn't let them.

God, he was such an idiot.

He let his shame consume him. And consume him it did. He wallowed in it. He couldn't help it.

He didn't brood. He was careful not to fall into the stereotypical role of a pouting, sulking prince. He completed his school work efficiently and diligently, studied overtime, and he didn't whine about his missing belongings. He didn't even ask about them. He wondered if the staff even remembered they still had his phone. He wasn't certain if it was still part of his punishment, or if they were merely wanting to keep his social media presence nonexistent for the time being (though it was never much more than nonexistent, anyway), or if they had simply forgotten to return it.

Honestly, Noct didn't really care. Sure, it would have been nice to text Prompto. It would have been a hell of a lot better than nice, it would have been downright relieving. But Noct didn't deserve relief. He deserved to suffer. He had cost his best and only friends their lives. Essentially. And he hated himself for it. He would never allow himself to recover from it.

He knew they ultimately wouldn't cast either of his aides out on the street, so to speak. He was certain the council would reassign them both to new positions within the citadel administration. Which, knowing that, should have perhaps brought a trace of consolation to Noct, but it didn't. It absolutely didn't.

He imagined his near-future self passing Ignis in the halls, or sitting across from him in meetings, a thick and foreign sense of unfamiliarity having settled uninvited between them. Would Ignis ever willingly meet his gaze? Would Noct ever have the courage to hold it? What would he see there? He never wanted to know.

And Gladio. He could just picture himself spotting Gladio a moment too late in the corridors, having no choice but to reluctantly cross paths with him. There would be no question of whether or not Gladio would dare to lock eyes with him, but rather, how piercing his stare-down would be. How badly it would hurt.

Both scenarios made Noct's innards shift again. He felt sick. He tried to push the glimpses of an inevitable future out of his mind, but it was difficult.

And he was too depressed. He knew there weren't any lighter thoughts to lessen the darkness, so why bother searching for any? Apathy was quickly taking over, and Noct was unknowingly entering the early stages of shutdown mode.

He inadvertently started sleeping more. Bedtime was a relief in the evening—the welcome signal he'd somehow made it through another day. Stolen naps were the only brief reprieve from his depression and loneliness. His dreams were unavoidably guilt-ridden and filled with glimpses of longed-for faces and scenarios of inevitable, painful confrontations. But the dreams didn't consume him, surprisingly. Which may have been due to his sleep seemingly growing...heavier, in a way. Deeper.

Whether Noct's increasingly detached state would soon become concerning to Marcaeus Lorem, his stand-in advisor, Noct wasn't certain. But he was pretty sure his eating habits had already become somewhat worrisome. Or lack thereof, really. Noct had kind of just...stopped eating.

Not intentionally, of course. The last thing he wanted was for any of his actions to be misinterpreted as a plea for attention or pity. He cringed at the thought. No, he certainly wasn't looking for any further scrutiny aimed in his direction. Not from anyone.

But he just...wasn't hungry. His appetite was always fleeting at the first sign of anxiety or distress, and this time it hadn't left any hints of an eventual reconciliation. It was just gone.

He managed a few bites each meal, but he had to force it. And to be honest, it always left him feeling queasy. No matter what it was they fed him.

Lorem had suggested he consider joining his father for a meal soon, but Noct let the idea drop before even thinking on it. There were few scenarios Noct could think of that sounded less appealing. He was doing a fine enough job drowning in his shame on his own. He didn't need his father inadvertently adding to it.

His father had attempted to pay Noct several visits since his disciplinary hearing. But each time Noct either pretended to be asleep, actually was asleep, or feigned the inability to break concentration on his school work. He felt a little sorry, and he truly hoped his father didn't mistake it for any type of crossness aimed towards him, because that's not what it was at all. He wasn't upset with his father. Why would he be? He just...couldn't bear the added shame and guilt any interaction with his father would undoubtedly bring. Even, no, _especially_ if his father's intentions were to comfort him. It would only make him feel worse.

So, Noct continued to take his meals in his room. He forced a few bites down, shifted the rest around the plate, and replaced the large lid, hoping Lorem wouldn't glance underneath before returning it to the kitchens.

But Lorem had likely begun to notice. He started...lingering at meal times. He usually took his leave right away, knowing his presence wasn't exactly welcome with Noct, though Noct was careful to never outright indicate so. But recently Lorem had started delaying, taking to pointless tidying or making trivial attempts at conversation while Noct fiddled with his fork. Noct knew Lorem was watching, surveying.

But again, he didn't really care. Noct just...didn't care about much at all anymore.

It was after about a week and a half with no break to the gloom, that Noct finally decided on a whim to just up and leave his room. With no destination in mind, he roamed the halls of the citadel aimlessly, careful to avoid looking at anyone or picking up on their whispers. He could still hear them though, whether imagined or not.

 _"God, he looks pretty terrible, doesn't he?"_

 _"Not surprising. You heard he got Scientia and Amicitia fired, didn't you?"_

 _"It's true, then? Yikes, I thought it had to be a rumor. What did he_ do?!"

It wasn't until he found himself lingering around the crownsguard training quarters that he realized he was looking for Gladio. He thought he'd be too scared to face Gladio for weeks yet, but no...he found himself wanting to see him. Needing to see him. The isolation was becoming too much.

Noct figured Ignis would likely still be keeping his distance from the citadel for the time being. He didn't have a clear idea of the depths of shame or embarrassment Ignis might be dealing with (although he was certain it couldn't come close to rivaling his own), but he was quite sure Ignis would elect to deal with it at home.

He doubted that would be the case with Gladio, however. No, Gladio wouldn't let his training regimen lapse. Not for anything.

So Noct waited for him. And when Gladio didn't show, Noct found himself lingering in the crownsguard halls the following day. And then the day after. He knew it only had to be a matter of time until they crossed paths there. He was certain of it.

It was later that night at dinner (which Noct was inconspicuously only picking at), that Lorem casually brought up the subject.

Noct had mildly been waiting for Lorem to leave, when his stand-in advisor made a hesitant attempt at conversation.

"Is the dish not to your liking, Your Highness?"

Noct had hardly even noticed what he'd been poking at. He cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded too much like it hadn't been used in weeks. "No, it's...it's fine," he said, forcing a couple bites.

"I'd be happy to request something different for you," Lorem prodded.

"No, really, it's...it's great," Noct said, his voice still absent of anything, despite his attempt to sound convincing. "Thanks," he added, hoping to appease his stand-in advisor's concern.

Noct could feel watchful eyes on him for a moment longer before Lorem spoke again. "Though your official training may still be on hiatus, Your Highness, I'm sure the council wouldn't be opposed to you getting some exercise." He paused, thinking on his next words. "If the crownsguard training facilities haven't looked particularly appealing, why don't you give the glaives' facilities a try? They're more private and might be more along the lines of what you're looking for."

Noct finally brought his gaze up, but Lorem didn't quite meet it. "Sure..." Noct replied hesitantly. "I'll...give it a try."

Lorem cleaned up and left soon after.

So, Lorem was aware that Noct had been on a stake out for Gladio the last several days. And from Lorem's fairly obvious hint, it sounded like Gladio had been using the glaives' training facilities instead. Noct wondered why? Perhaps Gladio was tired of dealing with the questions and condolences from everyone in the citadel, and found the smaller numbers of the glaives' grounds more bearable. Or less annoying.

That was pretty nice of Lorem, Noct realized. To not call him out on his pathetic search for Gladio. Lorem must have known asking him about it directly would only bring all the shame to the forefront once more. Noct had to hand it to the guy. For how much he knew his presence pained Noct, Lorem was still trying to do a decent job of caring for him.

Noct went to bed a short time later and slept heavily. It was strange—the more the days passed, the more sleep Noct seemed to need. No matter how long, it never felt like quite enough. Noct had always been a little on the low energy side, but recently an unfamiliar and almost...unnatural sort of exhaustion had been settling over him. His naps drew him more readily. Waking seemed to take more effort with each attempt. It was as if his body was aware how much his conscious life sucked and was trying to spare him from it more and more. Or something, Noct didn't know. All he knew is he was inexplicably tired. All the time. Perhaps his depression was now affecting more than just his appetite?

As it was, Noct was vaguely surprised he actually heard his alarm the next morning. It may have taken a few encounters with the snooze button, but he finally managed to pull himself out of bed, determined to get an unusually early start to the day. He didn't know what time Gladio would be working out, and he wanted to play it safe by commencing his stake out early.

He tiredly pulled on some jeans and a sweatshirt and made his way to the glaives' grounds, once again ignoring the concerned glances that seemed to follow him anywhere he went.

Clouds blanketed the far reaches of the sky, perfectly complementing the gray bleakness of Noct's state. The air was chilly, but the crisp freshness was welcome. Noct hadn't realized how much he'd missed fresh air.

He planted himself on one of the benches scattered along the perimeter of the glaives' outdoor training grounds, and waited, watching.

There wasn't much to see, really, but it was kind of nice in its own way—being outside for once, unwatched, unbothered.

A few birds skittered by at intervals. A light breeze kicked up now and then—not enough to freeze him, but enough to add a tinge of pink to his cheeks.

This would be a good spot for thinking. It was too bad Noct had been actively trying to avoid just that for nearly two weeks, and he wasn't in any hurry to let up. Thinking only brought more pain. It only made his gut clench tighter, and his shoulders stoop lower, and he knew further dwelling on his friends wasn't going to help anything, least of all himself.

He needed to _see_ his friends. He needed to _talk_ to them. He needed to tell them how goddamn _sorry_ he was for everything. God, he was so sorry.

His breath stuttered briefly and he knew it wasn't only from the cold. He watched the broken cloud of mist hang before his face a brief moment before fading from existence. He almost envied the ease at which it was able to disappear like that. To simply cease to be.

Noct hadn't even realized how far he'd zoned out when an unexpected voice beside him made him jump.

"Mind if I join you, Your Highness?" It was a woman's voice.

Noct turned, not even having noticed anyone approach him. He blinked at the familiar face. "Crowe," he breathed out, surprised.

She took a seat beside him, not bothering to give him a thorough glance-over, for which Noct was grateful.

She merely sat there a moment, watching her own breath form and scatter at even intervals. "So..." she finally ventured. "Has the aftermath been about as bad as expected?"

Noct just stared forward, fists jammed in his hoodie. After a moment, he attempted a faint shrug. "About," he replied.

She glanced at him then. "You holding up okay?"

A moment's hesitation and another failed shrug. "Yeah."

She pressed her lips together, studying him briefly.

"You guys..." Noct began, not sure how to really ask. "You guys are...okay...right?"

Crowe turned forward again. "We're fine," she assured him.

Noct leaned forward, freeing a hand to scratch the back of his head. "Crowe, I'm..." he paused. He knew he had to say it. He just felt like it wouldn't be enough.

"Your friend," Crowe cut in as he trailed off. "He's all right?"

Noct glanced at her before answering. "That's what I've been told... I haven't had a chance to see him for myself yet."

Crowe's lips pursed with sympathy. "Have you been able to talk to him at least?"

Noct let a small, tired sigh escape him. "No. No phone," he explained.

"Eesh. Still?" She replied, and then added after a moment, "I guess that sounds about right." Noct glanced at her and she went on. "I suffered through many a grounding, myself, in my teen years," she explained. "Though admittedly never for anything quite as serious as, you know, risking the future of the Lucian royal bloodline to the imperials." She offered a small smile, hoping the prince wouldn't take offense at her weak attempt at humor.

Noct straightened, appreciating her candidness with him. "Crowe," he said, pleased to hear his voice finally take on a note of earnestness. "I'm...really sorry." Crowe looked to him and Noct went on hastily. "I shouldn't have done that to you guys. I shouldn't have—I should never have put you in that position. It was—I know how foolish and bogus it was. It's just—I just..."

Crowe's faint smile was back. "Your friend was in trouble," she offered, as if it was the only explanation necessary. "...We all have a little crazy in us when it comes to our loved ones."

Noct dropped his gaze, grateful for her understanding. Though it still felt pretty crappy having to face her unexpectedly like that. It really had been a very shitty move he'd pulled on her the night of Prompto's rescue—lying to her unit to gain their trust, and later forcing her to escort him through the imperial base. He was lucky she hadn't faced serious disciplinary action. He was relieved she'd gotten off easier than Ignis and Gladio.

 _Ugh, Ignis and Gladio..._

Crowe had been watching him uncertainly. "You sure you're doing alright?"

Noct coughed and shifted his weight. He wanted to put up a convincing front that he was fine and everything would be okay, but he just...couldn't. He didn't have the energy for it. And he figured she'd likely see right through it anyway.

His hesitation must have said a lot, because Crowe attempted a new subject. "You know, ever since Amicitia resigned, he's been spending an awful lot of time training with us. I'm beginning to think he's taking after you in fancying himself a glaive."

A beat passed before her words registered with him. Noct slowly turned to look at her. _...What did she just say?_

Crowe noticed him staring at her. Her brow furrowed, wondering what she'd said wrong.

"...What?" Noct asked.

Crowe blinked. "You know, because you impersonated the kingsglaive that night. The night of your friend's rescue..."

"No," Noct said, noticing that weird feeling of his blood draining again. "You said something about...resignation?"

Crowe was watching him, a little worried again. "Yeah, Amicitia's..." She seemed confused.

Noct was frozen, staring at her.

"He's...inside, you know," Crowe said, reluctantly drawing her gaze from Noct and glancing toward the glaives' quarters. "You look like you might have some hashing out to do..."

Noct was on his feet and half-way towards the glaives' building before he even realized he hadn't offered any words of parting to Crowe. He figured she understood. He had to find Gladio.

He approached the glass doors, and a staff member was quick to come forward and open them. He normally would have nodded his thanks, but he hardly noticed.

Gladio was there. Somewhere amongst the endless rows of exercise equipment, his former shield, his former mentor, his desperately sought-after friend, was—

Noct's breath caught at the sight of an all too familiar muscular form, back towards him as a series of reps was carefully and precisely executed in one of the machines. The inked sleeves lining enormous, bare arms. The dark sheen of hair down a thick neck. Gladio.

Noct hardly realized what he was doing before he was beside Gladio, roughly grasping a bulky arm in attempt to whirl him about.

One never just "whirled Gladio about," however. Gladio budged on his own terms, or not at all. He turned, curious at the intrusion. His eyes flickered in surprise at the sight of Noct out of breath and fuming before him.

"You—" Noct stammered, his gaze intense as it locked with the bigger man's. "You _quit_ on me?!" he demanded. "You—you _resigned?_ "

"Noct..." Gladio was still catching his breath.

Noct was quickly trying to think back on the council's wording during his disciplinary hearing, but he couldn't recall exactly how they'd described Ignis' and Gladio's absence. He had been too distressed to listen closely.

Everything was coming off Noct in waves. He had been so distraught the last couple weeks—to the point of complete and absolute self-loathing. "Depressed" wasn't enough to describe his state of mind. He'd been beyond lonely, and the guilt and shame he'd been drowning in had started physically breaking him down.

And now here he'd come to find out one of his best and only friends had abandoned him willingly. By choice.

He would be lying if he said it didn't hurt like hell.

Noct shoved at Gladio, not even caring if it was about as effective as trying to move a wall.

"Do you even—" Noct began, his voice staggering as he felt his eyes already starting to brim. There was just too much pent up. He couldn't keep it back. "Do you have any idea—?!"

Noct shoved at Gladio again, and Gladio caught one arm smoothly, and then the other.

"Hey," Gladio said surprisingly gently, pulling Noct against him. "Come here."

Noct buried his face against Gladio's chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his solid form. The sobs were a little on the painful side, and he absolutely hated crying in front of Gladio, but it couldn't be helped. He had missed him. So goddamn much. And finally...having one of his friends there...

"Hey, it's okay, kiddo," Gladio said softly, a massive arm wrapped around the younger man, while the other hand cupped the trembling mess of dark tresses pressed against him.

"I'm so _sorry_ , Gladio." Noct's voice was broken and muffled, but he had to get it out. He just had to.

Gladio's hold on him tightened a fraction in response, and Noct clung to him fast.

"It's okay," Gladio repeated patiently. He allowed Noct a long time to calm down, merely holding him firmly, reassuringly.

One who only knew the 'shield' side of Gladio might be hard-pressed not to find the scene startling. But Noct knew better. Noct knew this side of Gladio—this 'completely-comfortable-as-the-caretaker' side comprised just as much of him as his 'hard-as-nails shield' side did. And Noct was grateful for that balance of contrasting traits. It was one of so many things he loved about Gladio. One of so many things he'd missed.

It took a while for the shuddering to finally subside. Noct's breathing was still a mess, but he finally pulled back, hastily wiping at his face with his sleeve. "Ugh," he said, overcome with both embarrassment and an odd sense of overwhelming relief. "Sorry...I didn't mean to lose it like that..." He trailed off, rubbing at an eye.

Gladio was still gripping his shoulders, holding him at arms' length to finally get a good look at him. He must have been concerned or a little pained by what he saw, because he pulled Noct in again for another brief hug.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Noct," he said. And then after breaking away once more, he briefly poked and prodded along Noct's torso, eliciting a few slightly ticklish flinches. "Goddamn, Noct," he said, brow furrowed. "I figured they'd keep you locked up for a while, but can't they at least slip you a meal under the door every now and then? What's goin' on?"

Noct hadn't noticed that his lack of appetite may have started to show. He ignored the comment.

"Gladio..." he began, the thickness of his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. God, he was tired of all the relentless emotional breakdowns lately. "I thought they...I thought the council dismissed you and Ignis...But, you—you actually resigned?" It was difficult to get the question out.

"I didn't _resign_ , Noct." Gladio stated. "I _requested_ a leave of absence for the both of us before the politics could get too messy in the aftermath of everything." Noct's brow raised a fraction, and Gladio continued. "Before the council felt pressured to dismiss us entirely."

"So...it's—it's not..." Noct sniffed, hardly daring to hope, "...permanent?"

"That's what we're hoping."

Noct's breath entirely left him at the unexpected ray of hope. He didn't dare allow it in. He was too scared to allow any sort of hope in. If it ended up being in vain...

"There's still the performance review process, but with how important they view mine and Ignis' rapport with you, I'm betting there's a good chance they really don't want to lose us for good."

Noct couldn't bring himself to think on it. Couldn't allow himself to even consider the possibility of getting his hopes up. It was too painful.

"...How is Ignis?" Noct finally dared to ask. He'd been dying to know.

"He's...he's doing okay." Gladio responded. "He's mostly just worried about you." He paused, giving Noct the once-over again. "And by the look of things, I'd say he probably has good reason to be."

Noct offered a weak scoff. "Is that really any surprise though? I mean...ruining the lives of your closest friends...inadvertently or not... That would screw anyone up..."

"You didn't ruin our lives, Noct," Gladio stated. "You just got a little too caught up in your own head and weren't thinking rationally." A beat passed and he added, "That tends to happen to the best of us when the imperials decide to kidnap our friends." He paused a moment before continuing. "Ignis and I...we messed up. We should have been keeping a better watch over you."

Noct didn't reply. He really wished Gladio hadn't just said any of that. It made him feel so horribly shitty. Knowing his completely innocent aides actually placed blame on themselves in any way, shape or form, it just...Ugh. It set off a twinge in his stomach. Not to mention the fact that Gladio, of all people, was actually attempting to excuse his recent behavior. He must have indeed looked pretty bad to have warranted that.

"Have they got a doctor involved yet?" Gladio asked.

Noct met his gaze again, questioning. "Hm?"

"With you, I mean?"

Noct's brow furrowed, not understanding Gladio's question.

"You're not looking so good, kid."

Noct's gaze dropped quickly, finally understanding that Gladio was voicing concerns over his health. He didn't want it. He didn't want anyone fretting over him, or directly asking him what was wrong, why he wasn't eating, why he was sleeping all day and then some. The last thing he wanted was more attention. And the _last_ thing he wanted was anyone pitying his situation. He'd put himself there, and he was going to continue facing it until he managed to either fix it or eventually climb out of it.

"I'm fine," Noct insisted quietly. And then after a moment, desperate to change the subject, he asked, "...How come you didn't come see me? If you've been hanging around the citadel all this time?"

"Oh. Yeah, I'm not really supposed to have contact with you during our leave—while our performance reviews are underway," Gladio explained, a hint of apology behind it.

Noct's gaze fell again. Of course that was the case. Noct was pretty much convinced at this point that he was just doomed to be cut off from his friends for the rest of eternity. It was almost laughable at this point. In the most unfunny way.

Gladio was still studying him. "Man, Ignis is not going to like hearing about the state you're in..."

"Then don't tell him." Noct didn't want to plead, but it sounded a lot like pleading.

Gladio shifted his weight. "Just hang in there for a bit longer, Noct. Till the rest of this blows over."

Noct did not like that note of pity in Gladio's voice at all. And he desperately wished Gladio wouldn't mention any of this to Ignis. He attempted to change the subject again. "Gladio..." he began. "It's Prompto's birthday tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah?"

"I'm going to attempt to get on one of the citadel's computers to send him a message, but if I'm not able to, will you be sure to wish him a happy birthday for me?" Noct hated the thought of missing it.

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

"Thanks," Noct let out a small exhale of relief at Gladio's assent. "How...how is Prompto? Have you talked to him or heard anything at all?" Noct wasn't surprised at how anxious he sounded.

"Yeah, I think he's doing okay," Gladio said, taking a moment to stretch. "Last I heard, he was planning to be back at school this week."

A flood of consolation unexpectedly coursed through Noct at that. It was the best news he'd heard in a long time.

"Honestly, though?" Gladio continued after Noct stayed silent. "He's been annoying as hell, really, constantly texting me, asking how you're doing. I keep telling him I don't know, but I don't think he believes me..." He thought for a moment. "I don't think he even knows we're on leave..." he realized.

A long moment passed. "Gladio..." Noct finally began. There was so much to say. So much apologizing to do. Noct didn't even know where to start. "I'm...I'm so..."

"Ah, save it, Noct," Gladio interrupted genially. "You think I don't know how shitty you feel about all this? All I have to do is take one look at you to see," he said, gesturing. Then added after a moment, "I know I don't always show it, but believe me, I know how hard you can be on yourself."

Noct's gaze fell again, once more ashamed at himself. Why couldn't he just form a proper apology? Why were words so hard sometimes? And why was Gladio offering him more pity? It was absurd.

"You've got to start taking care of yourself though, kid," Gladio continued. "Ignis is already going to be pissed at how much weight you've lost."

He was talking as if their return was a sure thing. Again, Noct had to clamp down on the slivers of hope that were threatening to break in. He couldn't let himself get hopeful. It would be too devastating if it didn't pan out. Noct couldn't deal with their loss a second time.

"I'd better get going, Noct. I don't want anyone claiming I violated any terms of my leave," Gladio said, thumping a hand on Noct's shoulder. "Hang in there, okay?" He squeezed briefly. "We'll get through this."

Noct reluctantly watched Gladio go, his vision abruptly blurring again.

* * *

Noct slept late the following morning. Once again, waking felt as if he were climbing out of a deep pit. With no rope, no ladder, nothing to scale the craggly, dark walls with but his own hands and unsure footholds. It was difficult.

When he finally managed to rejoin the world of the living, he kind of wished he hadn't. He wasn't feeling very well. Kind of flu-ish, really. His body felt stiff and more lacking in fuel than he could ever recall. His head swam and smarted, and he suspected his cheeks likely looked unusually flushed.

He brushed it all aside as best he could, taking his time to climb out of bed.

He headed for the shower, trying not to dwell too much on his encounter with Gladio the day before. Anytime he thought back on it, he couldn't help feeling snippets of hope once again trying to snake their way in amongst his depression—hope that it might actually be Ignis arriving with his breakfast tray one of these mornings. No, he couldn't allow any optimism. He didn't trust it. And he didn't deserve it.

Still, though...Seeing Gladio yesterday...it had managed to lift a small fraction of the impossibly heavy load burdening Noct's shoulders. He'd felt something that...almost felt close to resembling happiness? He'd almost forgotten what that felt like. It had been such a relief to see him. A release, of sorts. Noct hadn't realized how badly he'd needed it.

He just wished he could have expressed an adequate apology, but there weren't any words that seemed to be enough. How could words ever make up for the garbage he'd put his friends through? He hoped he'd at least be more emotionally stable the next time he got a chance. He didn't think he could handle that embarrassment in front of Gladio again.

Noct brushed his teeth, wishing his mirror would stop tilting every time he glanced at it. He ran a comb through his hair and tried to shake his mild dizziness off as he dressed.

He was just about to leave his room, when he bumped into Lorem at the door.

"Oh, Your Highness," he said in greeting, swinging his tray of food out of the way. "Good, you're up. I was hoping to time brunch a little better today so it would be warm for you."

The thought of attempting a meal, even a few meager bites, set Noct's stomach rumbling in protest.

"Oh, uh, thanks, Lorem," Noct said, brushing past him. "Go ahead and leave it on the table, I'll get to it in just a bit," he said, setting off down the hall.

"But, Your Highness...," Lorem called after him. "It'll be...cold...?"

Noct didn't glance back. He didn't really feel like dealing with Lorem's passive prodding at the moment. He wasn't feeling all that great. And he didn't want Lorem noticing his slightly glossy eyes or flushed cheeks.

He just needed to get to a computer. It was Prompto's birthday. And he'd be damned if he wasn't going to find a way to wish his best friend a happy one. He wasn't crazy about the phoniness of sharing birthday wishes over social media, but it was the only option he really had to go by.

He was en route to one of the citadel's four libraries when a funny kind of thing happened. The long corridor stretching before him suddenly became a tunnel, fading first to a monochrome blue, then black.

The next thing Noct knew, he was peering at the high ceiling, partially obscured by several unfamiliar faces. Faces with concerned brows.

Noct blinked, vaguely confused as to why he was on his back. And it took a long moment before his ears decided to start working again.

"—he alright? What happened?"

"I don't know, I just came across him lying here—"

"Is he hurt? Did anyone see—?"

Noct attempted to sit up with a faint hiss. His head hurt. He must have bumped it against the floor when he—When he what? Passed out? Had he just passed out? He wasn't sure, nothing seemed to be making much sense.

"Wait, stay still, Your Highness," someone above him said, putting pressure against shoulder. "Someone's fetching a doctor."

Noct brushed the intrusive hands away and pushed himself to his seat. It took effort. His head throbbed and he felt lightheaded. And his vision was still tinged blue.

He wanted to push himself to his feet, but his lightheadedness made him think better of it. He was afraid he'd pass out again and give the concerned bystanders further cause to fret over him. Man, he wanted to get out of there though. He was thoroughly embarrassed, and a heavy sort of queasiness was quickly settling in.

It was only a few moments later that Lorem arrived, his stride frantic. "Your Highness—!" he exclaimed, quickly dropping to Noct's side. "Are you all right, what happened?"

Noct was actually grateful Lorem was there to save him. He desperately wanted to escape back to his room, especially before any aforementioned doctors arrived. "I'm okay..." Noct said, accepting Lorem's offered help. "I just sort of...I dunno...fell...I guess." He trailed off, his cheeks still heated with embarrassment. He wrapped an arm around Lorem's shoulders, allowing the young man to draw him to his feet. He stood there a long moment, gathering his bearings before releasing his hold on his stand-in advisor. It took several beats for his vision to clear and the hallway to stop spinning, but as soon as it did, Noct deemed it safe to return to his room.

"Thanks, Lorem," Noct muttered in a low voice, setting off at a careful pace. Lorem trailed a half-step behind him, ready at a moment's notice to steady the prince if needed.

The embarrassment had mostly faded by the time Noct arrived back at his room, but a good portion still lingered. He could hardly believe he'd just straight-up fainted—with no forewarning, he might add—in full view of who knew how many staff members? Like, what the hell? What was wrong with him? Maybe it was time to put some serious effort into trying to fix the whole nonexistent appetite thing. But he was certain any attempts would be futile whilst still in the throes of heavy depression as he was. And there was just no getting out of that without his friends.

He sank face-first onto his bed, hoping to quiet his stinging head. He could feel Lorem there, hesitantly watching, unsure of what to do or say.

"I'm okay, Lorem," Noct told him, voice half-muffled by the comforter. "I think I just woke up with a bug today..."

Lorem didn't reply, merely continued to quietly stand by, contemplating.

"I'm just gonna...sleep it off..." Noct said, quickly fading. He knew Lorem would be inviting a doctor in at any minute, and he knew the only escape available to him was that of the unconscious kind.

He was asleep in moments.

* * *

This continued for several days. Noct, half-heartedly attempting to downplay his flu-ish symptoms, which hadn't abated, and a doctor checking in with him once a day, taking his vitals and insisting he begin eating better. His sleeping deepened. Waking grew more troublesome.

Noct tried to appease Lorem during mealtimes, he really did. But getting through just half a plate of food left him feeling nauseous every time. And Lorem wasn't Ignis or Gladio. He was still essentially a stranger. There were no familial grounds or even grounds of friendship for him to stand on with Noct. And as such, he was too timid and passive to ever attempt any firmness with the prince. He couldn't force him to eat. All he could really do was stand by and fret uneasily.

"Your Highness, please..." Lorem attempted during one of their routine dinners. "Please attempt to finish it," he practically begged. "I know you don't want any medical staff getting more involved with you, but you know they'll have to if you keep this up."

Noct didn't scowl, but he might have, had he not been so lost in apathy. He really wasn't "keeping up" anything. He wasn't on some type of pathetic hunger strike. He didn't _want_ to be starving and unable to feel it. He just...he was ill. He knew that. He just...wasn't able to get better.

It was a couple evenings later when Noct finally drew the last straw. He'd felt particularly shitty that day—feverish, less than zero energy, if that was possible. His entire body was starting to feel like...nothing more than weight. Which was funny, seeing how he was probably significantly lighter than he'd been in years, thanks to his jacked up appetite.

Noct had decided to take a bath that evening in an attempt to find some form of relief to his ailing physical state.

And it was nice—the all-encompassing warmth the water offered. It was soothing, almost. And of course, it didn't take Noct long to inadvertently slip away.

He drifted through the depths of darkness where dreams had failed to reach him for weeks now. It was a break from existence. A break from being. Though the dangerous depths he'd been visiting almost frightened Noct in a way upon waking, he still welcomed sleep every time. It was the only brief reprieve from the depression—the all-consuming despondency that was becoming too heavy to bear any longer. If it had ever been the council's goal to break him, they could have long since considered him broken.

Noct wasn't sure at first what drew him back from the void, but something had caused him to flinch awake. He blinked heavily, having forgotten where he'd last fallen asleep.

He blinked again. He was still in his bathtub. And, ah, God, the water was freezing! How long had he been there?

Noct jumped at the source of the sound that had woken him. Someone was knocking at the bathroom door. Scratch that, someone was _pounding_ on his bathroom door. Frantically, from the sound of it.

Noct was a little quicker to his feet than usual, the freezing water being more than an effective motivator. God, he was cold. He stumbled out of the tub, reaching for his towel as the pounding started up again, increasing in intensity.

Shivering, Noct drew his towel around his waist and staggered for the door, wondering what the hell was going on. He unlocked it, pulling it open as quickly as his grogginess allowed. He didn't know who he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't the captain of the crownsguard, fisted hand abruptly pausing mid-pound.

Cor's face immediately flickered from surprise, to relief, to anger.

Noct blinked, confused. "Cor?"

"What the hell, Noctis?!" Cor demanded.

Noct's brow creased a fraction, the confusion mounting.

"Why didn't you answer us?!"

Noct's brow only furrowed further. He vaguely noticed Lorem standing nervously behind Cor.

"Uhh..I..." He was so lost.

"I was this close to breaking the goddamn door down!"

Noct glanced between them again, still at a loss. "What's..." he began between shivers. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Cor repeated. "I'll tell you what's _wrong_ ," he said, his voice laden with heat. "You've been unresponsive in the goddamn bathroom for the last half hour!"

...Okay. So he'd inadvertently scared them. He was starting to catch up a little.

"Marcaeus noticed you'd been in there for hours, goes to knock on the door to see if you're okay, and gets zero response. He sends for me, and here I've been for the last ten minutes, frantically wondering if you'd split on us again, or if, God forbid, something had happened to you in there?"

Alright, so his passing out stint and weird health issues were starting to legitimately worry everyone. Great.

"Why didn't you answer, Noctis? Did you—did you pass out again?" Cor demanded, only seeming to really just notice the prince was soaked. Soaked and shivering. His brow suddenly creased with concern. "Did you pass out in the bathtub?"

Noct attempted to shake his hair out a touch. The constant dripping down his back had been chilling him even further. "I...I just fell asleep while taking a bath..." he explained, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I...must not have heard you..."

Cor just stared at him, lips pressed thinly. Noct could feel his eyes giving him the go-over. Pausing on his bare midsection. Noct suddenly felt inordinately self-conscious, wondering how noticeable his weight loss might be.

After thoroughly sizing the shivering and startled prince up, Cor nodded faintly to himself, his anger quickly diminishing.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," Cor said after a moment, his voice slipping back to its usual authoritative calmness. "You're going to get dressed, you're going to come sit with me out here, and we're going to eat some dinner together."

Noct stood staring at the ground a prolonged moment before offering the faintest of nods. There was never any disputing the marshal.

It wasn't long before Noct found himself dressed, wrapped in blankets and seated in one of his armchairs. Lorem had even turned on the fireplace. It might have been kind of nice under any other circumstance—the warmth and coziness of it. But Noct was now having to face further scrutiny from the marshal, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous.

He didn't even know why he was nervous, really. It's just, Cor was always one to lay down the law. To cut through the bullshit. To get right to the heart of any issue while completely sidestepping any nonsense. Cor was going to grill him, alright.

And he apparently wasn't going to waste any time getting to it.

"Why aren't you eating, Noct?" Cor questioned, though his voice wasn't accusing. It was patient. Concerned.

Noct sighed inwardly, not really knowing how to answer.

"Is it meant to be some sort of backwards display of defiance towards the council?"

Noct merely stared at the fire, almost letting out the faintest snort at the absurdity of the suggestion. No, he was long done with childish antics.

He could feel Cor's eyes on him, studying. "Okay, I didn't think it was a foolish attempt at rebellion, but I had to be sure." He paused. "Because 'typical rebellious Noctis' sounds a lot less frightening than the fact that you're actually very ill and in need of medical attention."

"I don't..." Noct interjected quietly, his voice once again lacking any feeling. "...need medical attention, Cor," he attempted to explain. "I know what's wrong with me, and it's not anything some doctor can fix."

Cor's eyes remained on him, unmoving.

"I'm depressed as hell—I've been depressed as hell for weeks now," Noct went on, his voice surprisingly steady, if still quiet. "But it's a circumstantial type of depression. And it's all my own goddamn fault, and there's not a whole lot I can do to fix it."

Cor was listening. If he was surprised by the normally tight-lipped prince launching unexpectedly into a candid monologue, he didn't show it.

"Ignis and Gladio weren't just my retainers. They're the only family I've ever really had. Losing them..." Noct swallowed dryly. "Causing their dismissal like that...and being completely blindsided by it... It...kinda messed me up a little." Noct was already into it. There was no point in stopping now.

"I can't eat because the sight of food alone makes me feel like puking. My body feels like shit every day, because I either have an incurable flu or I'm literally shutting down from lack of nutrients of something, I don't know... I can't stay awake anymore to save my life, and every time I fall asleep, it becomes a little more difficult to wake up." For some reason, Noct just couldn't bring himself to care that he was spilling everything. He just kept going. Something about it felt good to let out.

"And I don't want anyone knowing about any of this because they'll likely think it's some pathetic bid for attention... Or worse—they might actually feel sorry for me..."

Noct took a steady breath, his shivers having died down a while ago. "I don't want your pity or your concern, Cor..." His eyelids were growing heavy. "I just..." he exhaled, and there was finally a hint of feeling behind his voice. Grief. "I just want my friends back..."

Cor was watching him intently, a perturbed quirk in his brow, as Noct's eyes began to slowly slip shut. "Noctis," he said firmly, willing the teen to stay with him.

Noct glanced towards him slowly, struggling to stay awake.

"We're still talking here," Cor said, insistent. He was still studying Noct closely. "You mentioned your physical ailments set in shortly after your hearing, correct? After Ignis and Gladio were placed on leave, and your training was suspended?"

"Well...yeah," Noct responded slowly, thinking the answer obvious. That was when all the shit had gone down.

Cor was apparently trying to work something out. "Noctis, listen to me, this is important." He'd noticed the strain behind Noct's glassy eyes. "The last time you used your abilities, when you were sneaking around the other week, how did it make you feel?"

Noct blinked at the strange question. "I dunno..." he said thickly. "Guilty, I guess?"

"No, I mean the act of using your abilities itself," Cor explained. "Was there a rush involved? Adrenaline? Invincibility?"

Noct considered Cor's words, thinking back carefully on his escapades. He vaguely remembered warping off Prompto's parents' balcony, Prompto in tow—yeah, there was definitely a rush there. He recalled escaping the city warping from semi to semi—how exuberant he'd felt when he and Prompto finally climbed atop their final ride to freedom. He also distinctly remembered the night rushing past him as he fell from his balcony, mind made up to join the glaives. If he recalled correctly, he'd resolved to forever define true freedom to himself as the rush he felt from that free-fall. Oh, and he couldn't forget the overwhelming excitement of his newfound invincibility when he'd first phased through a wall. Despite everything that had happened since, he still wouldn't deny that had been awesome.

So, yes on all accounts then. Definitely a rush. Undoubtedly some adrenaline, too. And invincibility—yeah, he'd felt that, absolutely. He...hadn't realized how much he'd missed it all, actually.

Even so though, Noct couldn't piece together how any of this was relevant at the moment.

"Well?" Cor raised a brow, having given Noct more than enough time to think.

"Uhh, yeah," Noct finally replied. "Rush, adrenaline...invincibility...I guess there was a little of all those things..."

Cor nodded slightly, apparently satisfied. "It's the crystal."

Noct looked to him. "Hm?"

"It's the crystal that's messing with you." Cor said.

Noct's brow pinched together. What?

"Well, the depression and lack of appetite certainly aren't helping you at all, but the illness? The inability to stay awake? It has to be withdrawals from the crystal's magic."

Noct glanced to the fire, mildly taken aback. That thought had...never even crossed his mind. And wow, was it a bogus thought. So, the crystal was undoubtedly going to drain his life-force unnaturally fast when he became its primary caretaker, yet in the meantime, if he _stopped_ using its magic, it was going to drain him all the same, regardless? How did that make any sense?

"Damned if I use it, damned if I don't," Noct mused quietly, a regretful sort of ironic smile tugging at him. That type of fairness (or unfairness, rather), didn't surprise Noct at all anymore when it came to his luck.

"I don't think it's necessarily that the crystal continues to drain your life-force when you stop using its magic..." Cor was thinking to himself out loud. "But rather, I assume the crystal actually lends you a sense of its _own_ life-force every time you do use it." He paused a moment. "And now that you've stopped, your body's missing it."

Noct sat there unmoving as his eyes stayed glued to the fire. Great. That was just great. He'd already learned he was emotionally dependent on his friends, and now he'd come to find out he was also physically dependent on the crystal. Was there any part of his life that belonged solely to him?

"Noctis?"

"Hm," Noct hummed, once again devoid of everything. He didn't take his eyes from the fire.

"We need to get you training again right away."

Noct didn't reply. He just sat there, staring through the flames.

"Okay? We'll start tomorrow." Cor assured him. "We'll get you better, Noct."

Noct attempted a shrug, but it didn't amount to much. He just...felt like shit, through and through. And he really didn't know how much longer he could keep his eyes open. "I'm...," he finally ventured faintly, giving in. "I'm just...tired, Cor..."

Noct didn't feel his eyes slip shut. He was already gone.

* * *

 **A/N- First off, I just want to thank you guys so much for your overwhelming response to chapter 14! You know how after posting an update, pretty much all the feedback you're going to receive occurs within 24 hours? Well, feedback kept trickling in, even well past the point of "justifiable interest," and I was so grateful! I should never doubt you guys. You always come through for me. So, as a result, this fic has not been shelved. I'm still chugging away at it, and will continue to do so if the interest is still there.**

 **This chapter...I don't really even know what to say about it. Um, it's long? Sorry it just kind of got away from me. I feel like there was just no getting around all the Noct-suffering that had to happen though (I just hope it wasn't _too_ much. I can never quite tell if I'm going overboard with the angst.). And I feel like my writing style was quite different in this one compared to previous chapters. This chapter stretched over a much longer time frame, so it needed a quicker pace. And a fairly less amount of internal monologuing. This chapter actually ended up being pretty fun to write. Even though it could be so much more polished, it's too long to go back for extensive rewrites, and I think the sloppier writing actually fits with the content of the chapter. Noct was just struggling. I was just struggling to write it well. It works, lol.**

 **It certainly did Gladio a world of good to step back from everything and have some cool-down time, didn't you think? He was in such a better place, and he was able to legitimately be there for Noct without emotional distress getting in the way. I loved being able to utilize Gladio's "other side" for the first time in this fic, and I hope he still came across as believable to you guys.**

 **I kept debating between using Cor or Regis for that final scene of encountering Noct in the bathroom and having a long sit-down. I decided on Cor because, firstly, as the head of the crownsguard, I think he really would have been the first person Lorem would seek out if he suspected something was wrong with Noct. And secondly, I just don't think Noct would ever be inclined to spill his guts to his father like that. There's too much of a disconnect there. Noct is too intimidated by him, and thinks any word out of his mouth is an embarrassment when his father's around. And Cor seemed like the perfect unlikely sounding board for Noct. Cor is just so awesome.**

 **As for the inclusion of crystal-related headcanon, I dunno, it just seemed like a fairly interesting idea to attempt using. I've always been intrigued by Noct's connection to the crystal, and the ambiguity of how exactly it works, and I hope you guys found it somewhat interesting as well.**

 **Well, this note is getting way too long, on top of an already long chapter. I better wrap it up. Thanks so much for reading, and thank you so very much for your kind words of encouragement! I would never reach the end of this fic without them.**

 **Next chapter should finally feature some reunions! I'm kind of nervous, because I don't know if I even remember how to write Noct and Prompto together, it's been so long. We'll see how it goes.**


	16. Chapter 16

Prompto tried his best to suppress the small sigh that escaped him as he listlessly hit the sleep button on his phone for the eighty-millionth time.

He wished he would stop checking it as often as he did. The disappointment was starting to edge on hopelessness. And hopelessness was something Prompto never willingly subscribed to. But as much as he wanted to stay positive, he couldn't help dwelling on just how much time had passed now.

It had been weeks. Weeks without so much as a peep from his best friend.

And...it sucked. There really wasn't much else to say about it—it just _sucked._

Prompto could hardly remember the last time he and Noct had gone a full day without at least a brief text exchange; could hardly recall a time they'd gone much longer than a weekend without seeing each other.

Sure, it had only been, like, what, three, four years since they'd become friends? Maybe not so long in view of the full eighteen years of his life, but more than long enough to have developed the most solid friendship Prompto had ever known. Long enough for a co-dependency to have not only solidified, but to now have made itself painfully apparent.

Prompto had never fully realized how much of his life revolved around Noct. Having nearly identical class schedules, most all of his socializing at school took place with his best friend at his side. True, Prompto was the more outgoing of the two, which wasn't saying a whole lot, really, but he'd never realized how much his meager amount of confidence relied on Noct's presence—on his frequent nods of agreement, or genuine snorts of laughter at Prompto's typically humorous (well, attempted, anyway), on-going daily commentaries.

Prompto felt a little lost without Noct, honestly. Like he wasn't fully certain of his own identity without him, as strange as that might sound. So much of who Prompto was now was a direct result of the prince having accepted and welcomed his presence in his life. His lean and healthy figure, his continued love of running, his consistently talkative and generally _happy_ nature was all due to Noct's positive influence on him. Prompto almost kind of _liked_ who he had become in the last four years. And that was something his younger self would have hardly believed possible.

In Noct's absence, however, Prompto had withdrawn into himself significantly, both at school and at home. And it wasn't all due to the lack of best-friend-bolstered confidence. No, Prompto simply missed him. He missed Noct more than he could ever recall missing anyone.

His recovery had gone...okay for the most part. Yeah, he'd been a little sore, initially. Okay, he'd been practically bed-ridden for close to a week with how sore he'd been, but apparently electrical torture will do that to a guy. Go figure. He was still careful and somewhat hindered in his movements, but at least he was fully up and about now. And the cuts and bruises on his face had nearly completely healed.

The scans he'd had done at the hospital had indeed revealed an implant embedded in his arm, which his parents had opted to hold off on having removed for now. They wanted to give his body time to recover first. He wasn't sure when they'd decide to commit to the surgery, perhaps in the summertime, but Prompto was a little grateful he wasn't having to hide another visible disfigurement on his arm for time being.

Getting back to school had been a little rough. Of course everyone was aware something had happened to him and Noct. The whispered rumors weren't too far off the mark, either. But it was the questions that were difficult. Had the prince really run away? What happened? What was wrong, had Prompto been injured? How? Was he okay? Was Noctis also hurt? Why wasn't he back at school yet? Prompto was initially bombarded with endless such questions, which he could only brush off with nervous half-laughs of denial and vague white lies. He and his parents had been made to sign non-disclosure agreements about the whole thing, which Prompto hadn't really thought necessary, but did so anyway without hesitation. He wouldn't have told anyone anything if his life depended on it. Least of all a member of the press. Which, luckily, he hadn't been approached by yet.

And fortunately, his peers' questions had pretty much died off in the last few days, mostly being replaced by furtive sidelong glances filled with curiosity and concern. And contempt, in a few cases. There would always be those few cases of jealousy over the prince deeming Prompto worthy of his friendship. But Prompto was grateful no one had really pushed the matter too far. It must have been pretty evident it was a touchy subject for him.

But apart from being the worst thing ever, Noct's endless silence had long since passed the point of being depressing. It had become worrisome. Very much so. Anxiety-inducing, even.

What the heck was going on with him? Why was the citadel still keeping him from school? Why hadn't they given his phone back—was keeping him so isolated really that necessary? It had been nearly three weeks—did his brief escapade from the city really warrant such a punishment?

Prompto wanted to keep his worrying confined to such concerns, but a sneaking suspicion had crept its way into his thoughts the past week or so. And he couldn't brush it off or ignore it no matter how he tried.

What if the citadel was keeping Noct isolated specifically from him? What if they blamed Prompto for supporting and aiding Noct in his foolish scheme of running away? What if they faulted him for falling into imperial hands and stirring up a whole new mess of political issues between them?

Perhaps they had decided it was time for the prince's unnecessary friendship with Prompto to come to an end. What if they had simply enrolled Noct in a new school and had refused him any contact with Prompto ever again?

Prompto's stomach clenched. It hurt to think about.

Had they really caused _that_ much trouble?

Granted, Prompto knew Noct should never have even considered leaving Insomnia. He knew he shouldn't have encouraged him or tagged along. Noct was the prince. And Prompto...well, Prompto was a special case as well when it came to leaving the city's walls, as he more than well found out. His parents had basically ripped him a new one on the matter, after they'd recovered from the scare of potentially losing him. What had he been _thinking?_ Noctis was the _prince,_ for God's sake. Did he have any idea what could have happened to the both of them?!

Prompto winced at the memory of his parents' near-hysterical words. Yes, he knew he'd been stupid. He knew he was being stupid at the very time all the stupidity was taking place. But he was Noct's best friend. And Noct had made it very clear he needed Prompto that day. In a world of only hearing "no" and "you can't do that" countless times on end, Prompto had taken it upon himself to be the one person in Noct's life who would never purposely discourage him.

And maybe the council considered him a bad influence for it or something, Prompto wasn't sure. But if that was the case, it didn't seem entirely fair, to be honest. He hadn't initially known Noct's plan was to leave Insomnia when he'd first shown up and literally dragged Prompto out the door with him. He could never have guessed they'd actually be successful in escaping the wall. And he certainly hadn't _meant_ to get himself kidnapped by imperials. He really had done all he could to keep Noct safe—which, he might add, he still had to answer for. He knew Noct wasn't going to forget to give him hell for knocking him out. And being tortured and interrogated by sadistic imperial assholes had already gone down as the most painful and harrowing ordeal Prompto had ever experienced. And hopefully ever would experience. He'd tried to keep it together as best he could, but he had been pretty certain he was going to die at the time. He couldn't really even think back on it. It made him hyperventilate.

The citadel staff had been making him attend twice weekly therapy sessions with a psychiatrist downtown since his rescue. Which was kind of considerate of them, he supposed, and the doctor was nice enough. And maybe he could kind of see how it might have been helpful in theory, but honestly, he just...didn't really want to talk about it. Not now, not ever, really. And while he didn't know how much the doctor had been told about his past, or how relevant it might be to the situation, he wasn't about to spill it all again to a complete stranger. It had been painful enough with Ignis and Cor.

Speaking of which, the marshal of the crownsguard had seemed to take a new and almost puzzling interest in Prompto since their encounter in the medical wing a few weeks ago. Well, he supposed it shouldn't be puzzling, really. Of course the essential head of security over the royal family would be wary after discovering the closest confidant to the prince actually came from a mysterious, imperial-born background. No, Prompto wouldn't blame Cor in the least for suddenly regarding him with more speculative interest than usual.

But honestly, it didn't really seem like Cor was worried about him in the sense that he might be a potential threat. It kind of seemed like Cor hadn't been too thrown by his reveal, or if it even had been a reveal of sorts at all. Maybe Cor had already known? Prompto wasn't certain how extensively they had checked out his background when he and Noct had first become close, but maybe they'd been more thorough than he knew. But then again, maybe Cor was just an expert at his poker face, and he actually had been quite surprised that day they spoke in the medical wing. He wasn't certain.

What was unexpected though, was how Cor had asked for his cell number before leaving that day and had taken to texting Prompto every now and then, mostly on his therapy days, asking how the sessions were going and how he was feeling. Which was really nice of him, and it made Prompto feel almost...not 'special,' that sounded silly. But perhaps 'acknowledged?' He knew the captain had so much on his plate at all times, and for him take a moment out of his day to check on the lowly, pleb friend of the prince? Prompto was...grateful for it. It almost seemed like Cor had a newfound sense of care for Prompto, in a way, and whether that was because Cor felt sorry for him, or was merely more wary of him, at a time when the rest of the citadel had all but forgotten him, Prompto was thankful for his concern.

At least it was willingly offered. He couldn't exactly say the same for Ignis and Gladio.

He'd texted them a few times since everything happened. Okay, he'd texted them a lot since everything went down, and every exchange with them had just seemed a little...off?

True, Ignis had been the one to initiate contact with him several times, asking how he was doing, how he was feeling, when he would be returning to school. But anytime Prompto had tried to start up a text conversation himself, Ignis was slow to reply and surprisingly vague and indirect in his responses:

Was everything okay at the citadel? Hopefully everything should be expected to be, they were merely dealing with some political mishaps. Was Noct okay? He was dealing with the situation about as well as could be expected. Was he coming back to school soon? Hopefully soon.

It was almost as if Ignis was keeping something from him, which was unusual for the normally honest and forthcoming advisor. Or it almost seemed as if Ignis didn't have a complete grasp of what was going on, himself. But how could that be? Prompto had been tempted more than once to just phone Ignis and call him out on his weird nonresponses, but he figured Ignis likely had a reason for it. He always had a reason for anything he did. And Prompto didn't want to be more of a nuisance than he already had been.

It was bad enough that Ignis now knew _everything_. Even though he'd been so unexpectedly kind and accepting towards Prompto in the wake of the discovery. Prompto had kind of been floored by just how...great Ignis had been. He couldn't recall ever being more grateful to anyone than he'd been the moment Ignis had brushed off his dubious origins as not being 'particularly consequential.' Like, what? For real? His admiration and regard for Ignis had more than tripled, and Prompto had resolved on the spot to spend the rest of his life attempting to prove himself worthy of Ignis' acceptance and belief in him.

As it was, it would never again be possible for Prompto to ever be irritated or upset with Ignis. Not for anything, least of all spotty text replies. Not that he ever had reason before; how could you ever be mad at Ignis? But yeah, now it just wasn't possible, even if there ever happened to be a reason.

Gladio hadn't been much of a different story. Pretty much any question asked through text didn't garner much more of a response than _Dunno, bro. Sorry._ Except for the time last week when Gladio had texted him on his birthday:

 _Hey Prompto, Noct wanted me to make sure I passed along a Happy Birthday in case he isn't able to today. Happy birthday, buddy!_

Prompto had been in class and hadn't seen the message till later. And honestly, he just felt a little too depressed at the time to reply. He kind of just...wished Noct had been able to tell him himself. He hadn't realized how much he'd been hoping to hear from his best friend on his birthday. Not that it was that big of a deal, really. Prompto was always the last person to get butt hurt over anything. But...it just would have been nice, is all. It would have relieved a lot of his worrying and loneliness.

As things were, Prompto really had no choice but to continue trying to be as patient as he could. Even if his patience was mostly forced by this point. He had to hear from Noct eventually, right? If he just kept waiting, kept hoping, he'd hear from him for sure...wouldn't he?

He and Noct would still be able to be best friends, nothing could change that...

...Right?

Prompto sighed once more, thoroughly disheartened as he kneaded his pillow and rolled over. It was a long while before he finally fell asleep.

* * *

Cor sat with Noctis by the fire for a long time, quiet and contemplating. He wasn't sure how long ago the youth had fallen asleep, but Cor suspected it had been the better part of an hour that he'd been lost in thought now.

His glance was drawn to the prince at frequent intervals, concerned and wary, even guilty, as he sized him up time and again, despite his slumped and unmoving position remaining unchanged.

How had they let the prince get to this point without anyone intervening sooner? Despondent to the point of noticeable (and concerning) weight loss, off his already slight frame? Unaddressed illness and crystal-induced infirmities? It was inexcusable. Not to mention completely unnecessary and preventable. And if there was one thing Cor disliked, it was preventable problems.

Well, perhaps 'preventable' wasn't the most precise definition of Noct's state. Maybe 'inevitable' was actually the more accurate way of looking at it. With Ignis away, there was in actuality no way of something like this not happening.

Though Cor had been opposed to Ignis' and Gladiolus' leave as soon as it had been mentioned to him, he could understand and appreciate the reasoning behind it. It had been a smart way for Gladiolus to ensure the safety of their positions.

But it had never before been so apparent just how much of the prince's well-being fell to Ignis. Cor was quite certain it was something the entire citadel had taken for granted until now. With Ignis absent and Noctis blaming himself for the fact, of course the prince's state of well-being would go to hell.

Cor stifled an irritated sigh. Why had they let his deterioration go on for so long though? Well, he supposed the answer was easy enough—again, because Ignis was gone. No one else monitored the prince closely enough apart from him.

And while councilman Lorem's son had been doing the best he could to fill Ignis' impossibly large shoes, he just didn't have the necessary rapport with Noct to really do his job effectively. And Noct likely hadn't been the easiest or most pleasant of charges recently.

The whole situation was just frustrating and well past the point of bordering on worrisome now. Yes, it had been necessary for the prince to answer for his impudent misdeeds. But considering Noct's current state, it was quite clear the council had let it go too far, whether inadvertent or not. Perhaps they weren't aware of the extent of the prince's misery. Cor rather hoped that was the case, and that they'd be quick to attempt to remedy the situation. The prince needed his retainers back. His "family," as he'd called them.

And of course, they would have to address the crystal-related health issues. That was imperative, as soon as possible.

Cor glanced to the prince for the hundredth time, his stillness just as disconcerting as it had been an hour ago. There was now a newfound flush to his pale cheeks, however. Perhaps he was getting too heated by the fire.

"Marcaeus," Cor's sudden announcement was a startling contrast to the quiet hum of the fireplace.

Lorem immediately glanced up from where he'd been sitting across the room. "If you'll turn down the bed, I'm going to move him now."

Lorem was quick to comply, drawing immediately to his feet and setting to it.

Cor stood and leaned towards the prince, laying a hand across his forehead. Damn, he was indeed too warm. He drew the blankets aside and bent to gather the prince's sleeping form. He stood, mindful not to let his head loll too carelessly. Damn, he was too light, too.

Cor released a sharp breath through his nose, mildly fuming again at the prince's uncalled-for state.

He lay him in his bed gently, despite knowing Noct would likely sleep through any amount of jostling at the moment. He brushed dark strands away, once again pausing on his forehead and cheeks.

"He's feeling hot," he stated to Lorem. "Has he been running a fever this high regularly?"

Lorem immediately turned for the nightstand, rummaging. "His fever's wavered between ninety-nine and one-oh-one the last several days," Lorem replied, rejoining Cor with a thermometer in hand. He pressed it between Noct's slightly parted lips, carefully closing his jaw around it.

Cor stood by, waiting. Upon hearing the little beep a moment later, he glanced over.

"One-oh-three point two," Lorem announced, a hint of worry behind his voice.

 _Damn. That is pretty hot,_ Cor mused, troubled. He pulled the comforter off Noct, leaving him covered by only the sheet. He turned, stepping away to fetch the chair near the door, bringing it bedside. He sat down, preparing to stay as long as needed near the prince.

"Marcaeus," Cor said, as the young man stood uncertainly nearby. "Would you mind sending for the doctor? Let's see if we can get this fever down."

Lorem nodded, heading briskly for the door.

And it was a surprisingly short time before he returned, doctor in tow.

The doctor was quick and efficient in taking Noct's temperature, pulse and blood pressure. Cor thought he may have heard a slight click of his tongue as he read off a temperature of 103.5 degrees.

"What do we do, Doc?" Cor asked as the doctor righted himself once more.

The doctor pursed his lips a moment. "There unfortunately isn't a whole lot that can be done to relieve a fever," he explained. He turned his attention to his bag. "I can give him a shot of ibuprofen or acetaminophen to potentially help somewhat, but really the only thing to do is keep him cool and let the fever run its course."

Cor almost wanted to scoff. "This fever's been plaguing him for close to a week now. How much longer of a 'course' are we going to allow it to run?"

The doctor didn't answer him immediately, distracted as he was, readying a syringe. He swabbed Noct's arm and plunged it in, emptying its contents.

"I administered a shot of antibiotics several days ago," the doctor explained, quickly withdrawing and capping the needle. "But his low-grade fever's persisted. It doesn't appear to be any sort of infection we're dealing with." He paused, glancing at Cor over his glasses. "I'm beginning to suspect there may something else, something less natural, perhaps, at play here..?"

Cor's jaw hardened. He crossed his arms, offering a tight nod. "I've been wondering about the crystal's involvement as well." His eyes fell to the motionless prince. "I fear he's suffering from some form of withdrawal from his magic's effects now that it's been weeks since he's used it. I want to get him back to exercising it again as soon as possible, tomorrow even, but I worry he may be too weak. And I worry about him waking—he mentioned it's becoming more and more difficult for him to regain consciousness. Is it even safe to be allowing him to sleep right now? How serious should we consider these withdrawal symptoms? And will it only continue to worsen in the meantime?"

The doctor pressed his lips together, thinking. "Valid questions, all of them." He nodded slowly. "I truly wish I had more legitimate answers to offer you, Marshal," he said regretfully, "but my knowledge on the subject is unfortunately very limited; as is most everyone's, I imagine."

They were quiet for a moment. "...Should we send for His Majesty?" Lorem asked timidly, voicing Cor's own thoughts.

Cor glanced at the clock. It was nearly 11:00 pm. Regis would be in bed asleep by now. Due to the crystal's physical demands of him, Regis required a lot of sleep and had made it a habit of retiring early years ago. If they were to wake him now, he would likely be up well into the night, worrying over his son. It would take him days to recover from a sleep deficit like that.

"Let's hold off on waking the king for now," Cor finally decided. "We'll see if the prince's fever comes down at all over the next hour or so. Hopefully it will, and I'll be able to discuss my concerns over the crystal with His Majesty in the morning."

The doctor nodded his consent. "I'll be in every half hour to check on him, then. If his fever progresses, we can get him into the medical wing and at least get him going on a fluid drip." He briefly shook hands with the marshal. "Don't hesitate to call if I'm needed sooner." He turned and took his leave.

Cor went back to his silent watch over the prince, and Lorem took to pacing near the windows, glancing at his phone often.

They checked Noct's temperature at frequent intervals, but they were disappointed in their hopes for improvement. His temperature continued to steadily climb.

Finally, just after midnight and a temperature approaching 105 degrees, Cor's worrying and frustrations were reaching their limit. He needed help. He needed advice, suggestions. Or if anything, at least further support.

He didn't know where the council currently stood exactly, regarding any terms of leave. Or how far along the performance reviews were, or whatever. Cor didn't really care. It was time for all that nonsense to come to an end. For the prince's sake, it was time.

"Marcaeus," Cor said, dragging his eyes from Noct and addressing the young man fidgeting near the fireplace.

Lorem stopped fiddling with the loose thread at his sleeve. He looked over.

"Send for Ignis," Cor said, his voice firm, resolved. "And Gladio. Send for Gladio, too. Get them both here as soon as possible."

Lorem nodded, scrambling to his feet. He was out the door in moments.

* * *

Ignis was abruptly drawn from his sleep with a small start, his phone only ringing once before it was at his ear.

 _"Mister Scientia?"_

"Yes?" Ignis was sitting up, his head already clearing as his reply left his lips.

 _Something's wrong with Noct._

Any grogginess or disorientation lurking at the edge of his awareness didn't stand a chance against that sudden, unexpected thought. There was no other explanation for a call at this hour.

 _"This is Adria Odalis with the Citadel's Administrative Department. Your presence is requested at the citadel. A car should be arriving in a quarter hour's time. Is that agreeable for you?"_

Ignis was on his feet, reaching for his glasses. "Yes," he replied, hastily putting them on. "Yes, that's fine."

He hung up, already in the process of dressing.

 _Something's wrong with Noct._ The thought echoed through his mind as he pulled a shirt on, nimbly drawing its buttons. Damn it. He'd feared he might be receiving a call like that soon.

He pulled some pants from his closet, fluidly stepping into them as he located some shoes.

What could it be? Likely nothing apart from a health scare would warrant a call out of the blue at this hour. An illness? A particularly bad flu?

Ignis didn't want to let his thoughts race too far ahead of him, but he already knew he'd be wrong to suspect something as trivial as the flu. No, it inevitably had to be more along the lines of Noct's emotional and mental health.

Ignis knew Noct would have struggled immensely since learning of his and Gladio's leave. He knew it would have crushed him. Entirely. He'd been struggling, himself, unable to keep his thoughts from drifting to Noct every hour of the day, wondering how he was coping, how well he was being cared for, if he was eating, how despondent he'd been.

It was...close to unbearable. The not knowing. The inability to be there. The utter waste of every day, spent kept in the dark, useless to everyone—most of all Noct. Ignis hadn't known what to do with himself. He'd hated every minute of it.

But finally, after nearly three never-ending weeks, his hellish limbo was at long last drawing to a close.

He succinctly finished packing his bag of extra clothes and toiletries. He usually kept all he needed at both his residence and his room in the citadel, for the sake of convenience. But seeing as it had been a while since he'd taken stock at the citadel, he was playing it safe by packing thoroughly.

Now he just needed to prepare himself to face and deal with the damage his absence had caused Noct.

Prepared or not, he made his way down to his apartment's lobby and out to the waiting car.

* * *

Ignis strode through the citadel's long corridors, his pace hastening. He'd forgotten the halls of the citadel held a unique scent that he'd long since gone blind to before taking leave. He could smell it again though. It smelled clean. And...welcoming, in a way.

It felt good to be back. Despite his anxiety over the scene that awaited him multiple stories above in the prince's bedroom. What form of distress would he find Noct in? He swallowed dryly.

"Ignis!" It was Gladio's voice, calling from behind him. Ignis turned to see Gladio approaching, his stride bordering a jog. He caught up to him, draping an arm easily across Ignis' back and clapping his opposite shoulder. It was Gladio's casual version of an 'it's good to see you' hug. Ignis nodded his reciprocation, and they continued down the hall together, stepping into an elevator.

"You think it's bad?" Gladio asked, hitting the button as the doors closed.

"I'm not sure what to think," Ignis replied after a moment. "I wasn't provided any details."

"I wasn't, either," Gladio offered. "But I'm starting to doubt it's a surprise 'welcome back' party."

Ignis looked at him.

"What, you think it still might be?" Gladio asked.

Ignis let a half-scoff escape him, shaking his head in mild annoyance. Leave it to Gladio to make light of such a situation. Funny, they'd only been reunited for the better part of two minutes and Gladio had already managed to get a hint of a rise out of him. Ignis shouldn't be surprised, really.

"Look, he's gonna be all right," Gladio said, becoming serious again. "Yeah, he's struggled a little with eating, but we'll get some weight back on him in no time."

Ignis looked to him quickly again. "You saw him recently?"

"Last week," Gladio explained. The elevator dinged and they stepped out. "He came to find me in the glaives' quarters, ranting about how he'd heard we quit on him or something." They rounded a corner. "He seemed pretty broken up about it."

Ignis paused a step beside him. "You told him we didn't?" It wasn't exactly a question. He increased his pace briefly to catch up.

"Yeah, I cleared things up with him," Gladio assured him, running a hand through his hair. "But, it did look like he'd been having a pretty rough time of things," he explained.

Ignis turned his gaze forward again. "You failed to mention any of this," he said, careful to keep any hint of accusation from his voice.

"Never got a chance to," Gladio replied. "...And Noct sort of begged me not to make you worry."

Ignis blinked, trying to keep the surprising admission at bay. He failed. He felt a small prick somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, and it stung a little. Of course Noct would find a small way to try and look out for him, despite being the one needing looking after.

A lot of good it did though, really, Ignis thought. The facts being kept from him did nothing to lessen their validity. Noct had been miserable. And Ignis should have been told of the extent of it sooner.

"You been doin' alright?" Gladio asked after their conversation lulled for a moment.

"Well enough," Ignis replied. They turned another corner. "I'm just...relieved to be back," he found himself admitting.

"You know," Gladio said, glancing at him again, "surprisingly, I can actually tell. It's almost like you've become an open book lately, Iggy," he said, a grin tugging at him.

Ignis offered another mildly hinted snort, unable to tell if it was sarcasm or not. He let Gladio's attempted banter die at that. They had arrived at Noct's bedroom.

Gladio was at the door first, offering a quiet knock before opening it. Ignis followed him in, surprised at how difficult it was to swallow for a moment.

There he was. His charge. In bed. Still, quiet, unmoving. His dark (and noticeably unkempt) hair a stark contrast against the white of his pillow, the white of his face.

Ignis approached him.

Thin. Ignis finally managed to somewhat swallow. Yes, he looked thin. Almost painfully so. His cheeks were more prominent than they had any right to be, and his eyes appeared slightly sunken, his lashlines startlingly dark against those pallid cheeks.

Ignis reached out, combing his fingers through that thick hair he'd almost forgotten the feel of. He touched his forehead, his cheek.

Hot. Bloody hell, he was hot. Ignis quickly drew his hand away, almost as if afraid of being burned. Though that actually wasn't even close to what he feared at the moment.

Goddamn it. So it was an illness.

Ignis had a difficult time drawing his gaze from his too-still charge, but he forced himself. He looked to Cor expectantly, waiting for the details.

Cor filled him in as best he could, with Marcaeus Lorem stepping in frequently.

Apparently (but not surprisingly), Noct had been on a downward spiral of depression for the last three weeks. He'd been struggling to eat for the same amount of time, and now they'd come to find out the council's banning of his abilities had perhaps not been the wisest idea. Unbeknownst to everyone, Noct had been gradually deteriorating over time from lack of interaction with the crystal. Things had continued to worsen with Noct falling into longer and longer spells of unconsciousness, and a persistent low-grade fever suddenly deciding to become a very high-grade one. High-grade and climbing.

Ignis stood staring, choosing to keep every comment he would have loved to spit out carefully stowed away. His fingers were never for pointing. And even if there had been a clear source to blame, he wouldn't have done so. Everyone had tried their best with what they could do for Noct. They just hadn't known the extent of everything. They hadn't realized how badly Noct's isolation was affecting him. And that was mostly due to no one being able to read and monitor the prince quite like Ignis could.

Gladio remained surprisingly restrained as well. He'd been standing nearby, unmoving, his eyes bleak and his jaw clenched tight as he watched their charge.

Cor had been right to call them. And honestly, he should have done so sooner, their leave be damned.

"What's his current temperature?" Ignis asked quietly, his eyes dropping back to that familiar, yet at the same time strangely unfamiliar sleeping face. His hand found Noct's hair again.

Lorem stepped forward to check. It was a moment before he stepped back at the beep. "One-oh-five point nine," he said with a faint hiss.

 _Bloody hell._ They had to do something. Right away.

"Doctor Ipsum said we could get him into the medical wing anytime, get him going on an I.V., see if getting him hydrated will help..." Cor said. It was clear he was at a loss. And the marshal of the crownsguard was never at a loss. Ignis could tell it was uncharted territory for him. The fear and worry were both fully evident—two emotions most people would have bet against the marshal even possessing.

Ignis stayed silent, thinking. Cor had called him in for a reason. He knew Ignis was somehow adept at dealing with situations like this. At keeping a level head in order to explore any and every possible solution. It was a skill he was grateful for. It was a skill he'd—

Wait. Of course! Ignis could have almost snapped his fingers, if snapping his fingers was something he ever did. It was so simple. Why hadn't he thought of it immediately?

"Marcaeus," he said, straightening. Lorem glanced to him quickly. It must have been apparent he was on to something. "Can you fetch us a potion?" Ignis asked, looking to him. "Perhaps two or three?"

Lorem had barely nodded before he was out the door.

Cor's mouth opened slightly. Yes, maybe the suggestion sounded stupidly simple, Ignis realized, but it was possible it just might work.

A hint of optimism permeated the air as Cor and Gladio exchanged glances.

"Noct likely won't be in any shape to exercise any magic tomorrow," _Assuming he decides to wake at all,_ Ignis thought, wary of Cor's description of his current sleeping habits. "But he can still partake of a small form of the crystal's magic through a potion."

Gladio and Cor both nodded subtly in agreement, wondering why they hadn't thought of something so obvious.

Marcaeus returned a few moments later, out of breath and carrying four potions in his arms.

Doctor Ipsum was also there behind Lorem, apparently back for one of his regular check-ins. They both entered the room, and Ignis quickly and gratefully accepted one of the potions.

He approached Noct again, somewhat uncertain as he held the potion over the prince. "Without an actual wound," Ignis thought out loud, "it might not be possible for the potion to enter his system..." He looked to the others briefly.

"...You think ingesting it?" Gladio asked, usually quite well versed in following Ignis' train of thought.

"My guess is that's likely our most effective option," Ignis replied, glancing to the doctor.

"How does he drink it if he's unconscious?" Cor asked. And after a moment he added, "Can it be injected?"

"No," the doctor immediately replied. "No, I wouldn't try that. That hasn't been properly tested."

"But how is that any different from breaking it over an injur—"

"What if we just," Gladio cut in, grabbing the potion from Ignis as he climbed onto the bed opposite Noct, "I dunno, pour it down his throat?"

"No, no, no," the doctor quickly interjected again.

"We'd risk it potentially ending up in his lungs," Ignis explained.

"What do we do, then?" Gladio asked, kneeling on the bed next to Noct, who was completely lost to the jostling.

"You'll have to wake him up somewhat enough to be able to drink the potion willingly," Doctor Ipsum explained.

Oh, wonderful. Somehow everything always seemed to come down to whether or not they could rouse their charge. It was a task he and Gladio had become so much more than familiar with over the years. And it was a challenge that was always hard won, if won at all.

"Alright," Gladio said, never one to shy away from a challenge. Even one as oftentimes daunting as waking Noctis. "Sure. We can do that," he said, leaning over the prince. He started lightly tapping his cheek. "Noct, hey, Noct, it's time to wake up, buddy," he said, gradually tapping harder at the lack of response. "You've gotta open your eyes, bud, come on."

The others stood by, watching warily.

Gladio moved on to shaking Noct's shoulders. "Noct," he said loudly in his ear. "Get your ass up, I'm not playing around here." He shook harder.

"Careful, Gladio," Ignis admonished, not exactly keen on how rough Gladio was being.

Gladio switched tactics again, poking and kneading at Noct's ribs and under his arms. "Come on, Noct, I know you can't stand this. Why don't you wake up and tell me to eff off?"

Still nothing.

Gladio was getting frustrated. He went back to shaking Noct, harder this time.

"Gladio," Ignis stepped forward. "Careful. You're going to end up injuring him." He brushed Gladio aside, leaning down to gather the prince in an attempt to reposition him back on his pillow.

It was as he was adjusting his charge's weight, arms around him as he half-lifted, half-scooted him back across the bed, that Noct's eyes suddenly cracked a measure.

"Ig...gy?" His voice was barely there.

Ignis nearly gasped. "Gladio," he said quickly, helping the bigger man immediately pull the prince into a upright position against him.

"Here," Ignis said, hastily unstopping the potion. He leaned in again, a knee lifting onto the mattress for balance, as Gladio grabbed the potion, forcing it against Noct's lips.

Noct clearly wasn't all there with them, but his eyes kept slipping somewhat open in a feeble attempt to join them.

"There you go, that's the way," Gladio said encouragingly.

Ignis placed a helping hand on the potion as well, peering close to make sure Noct was indeed swallowing its contents down the proper pipe.

Noct choked and sputtered, weakly attempting to draw himself away. He didn't know what was going on, and he wasn't sure he should continue to allow it to.

"No, Noct," Gladio said, firmly readjusting Noct against him once more. "You've got to get it all down, buddy, come on."

Noct again struggled to free his mouth, to break away, but Ignis reached in to help hold him steady.

Noct choked again, starting to get desperate in his attempt to get away, but they didn't let him. They allowed him a moment to recover before firmly, yet gently forcing him to drink the remainder.

Ignis couldn't keep back his sigh of relief upon seeing the flask finally empty. He let his forehead drop against Noct's hair a moment, before helping Gladio lay him back down. Noct was once again as out as he'd been only minutes earlier.

"Good job, Noct," Gladio said, relieved, as he patted Noct affectionately. "You did it, buddy."

Ignis stepped back, only then noticing a thick exhaustion quickly settling in. It was a little surprising how taxing and semi-traumatic being physically forceful over a loved one was. He hoped he'd never have to do anything like it again.

Marcaeus stepped in briefly, thermometer in hand. "Oh, wow," he said after a moment, relief lacing his voice. "It's already coming down. One-oh-four point five," he announced.

Ignis sighed again, not bothering to attempt stifling it this time. He sat heavily in the bedside chair, claiming it as his for the remainder of the night.

Cor took up residence in one of the armchairs framing the fireplace, resolving to go to bed once the fever came down to 101.

Gladio stepped behind Ignis, reaching down to squeeze his shoulders a few times. His version of a polite and affectionate 'way to go' gesture. Ignis didn't even shrug him off. He knew Gladio got a kick out of being the only person who dared attempt physical playfulness with him at times. And he was nice enough to let Gladio get away with it sometimes, too.

Gladio then tiredly announced he was going to bed and to let him know if he was needed again.

Lorem stuck around a while longer to ensure the fever was indeed continuing to subside. Which, thank the Six, it was. Ignis called him over before he departed for bed.

"Marcaeus," Ignis said, stifling a yawn. "Would you be willing to arrange for an escort to collect Prompto Argentum from school tomorrow?"

Lorem rubbed at an eye and replaced his glasses. "Sure, I can take care of that."

"And have them stop by his home and kindly request he pack a bag to spend the weekend here."

Lorem nodded again and Ignis offered his thanks.

Noct had been too long without his best friend. Prompto's presence would be a necessary piece to his recovery.

Cor finally took his leave just after 3:00, pausing briefly to place a hand on Ignis' shoulder. A lot was said behind the simple gesture, and Ignis nodded his understanding as Cor departed.

Ignis, however... He could have stayed at Noct's bedside until the crystal's glow completely diminished, if he had to. It was where he was needed and where he belonged.

Yes...he thought idly before finally drifting off. It was indeed a relief to be back.

* * *

 **So, I'd been really trying to not let this fic go longer than 5 weeks between updates, and here I am at about 5.5 weeks, I think? Which I really didn't think was going to be possible this month, since, you know, December. *flops on floor* Could it possibly be more exhausting? (I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, btw!)**

 **This was initially planned to be the last chapter, but I had the thought to throw some more angst into the mix (because as I've said before, enough angst is never enough), and this unexpected 'everyone angsts over Noct' chapter was born. I usually prefer when Noct is the angsty one, but it was pretty fun to switch it up for once.**

 **Regarding Prompto's segment at the beginning, if you'll recall he still has no idea that Noct was personally involved in his rescue. He still thinks Noct is being punished solely for their initial sneaking out of the city. Hopefully that clears up any confusion there.**

 **And I know I swore I would never do another Ignis POV, but it was kind of necessary here, and I dunno, I attempted a more laid-back approach with him (and fewer-detailed inner monologues), and it ended up being a lot easier than last time. I just hope he still came off somewhat in character. It was fun attempting to do justice to how much Ignis really cares about and loves Noct. He would die for that boy in a heartbeat.**

 **Next chapter should finally include the reunions. I'm excited to finally wrap this fic up soon!**

 **Thanks so much for sticking with me! And thank you soo much for the feedback! It's been so fun nerding out with a lot of you over these characters, and your wonderful and insightful comments have influenced this fic and my views of the characters so much. I love this fandom.**

 **UPDATE 3/6/19: I'm so sorry to have put this fic on hiatus just before the final chapter, but I inadvertently ended up fandom hopping several weeks ago and I couldn't resist starting a new fic for the My Hero Academia fandom. All of my writing interest and time has been invested in that lately, but I promise this fic will eventually get its concluding chapter.**


End file.
